


division

by svnshinefairy



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, Assassination, Assassination Attempt(s), Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Anxiety, Mentions of politics, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Physical Abuse, Torture, mentions of rape/non-con, spy AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:01:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28972497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/svnshinefairy/pseuds/svnshinefairy
Summary: Park Jinyoung’s team of supernatural spies encounter an abrupt divide between them, creating new events that could possibly mess up the future they desperately want to create.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	1. The Start of an End

The thick and white icy layers of snow crunch beneath a sprinting pair of feet.

The night is cold — almost too cold for a human being to bare. Yet Jeongin is out here, racing like he was being followed by the devil himself, neck, ears, and cheeks painted a dark red.

Breathing harshly through both his nose and mouth, he zipped past the maze of giant trees, stumbling and practically falling face first into the snow. The large gusts of wind isn't doing him any good either, nearly tossing him around and biting any exposed skin.

Dammit, he's fucked.

He is _so_ fucked.

He can already picture the dark, fuming eyes of his leader, the pursed, snarling lips, along with words like " _What did I tell you_?". He can already hear it, and his stomach twists at the thought.

Snow gathers into a little pile when Jeongin abruptly halts, covered feet scraping against the ground. He huffs, attempting to catch his breath as he stares ahead, anxiety bubbling in his chest.

A group of gunmen are approaching swiftly, yelling something incoherent in the distance. He must be their target, as they appear to be coming his way, weapons aimed and ready.

_Shit_ , _shit_ , _shit_.

The boy wastes no time as he turns on his heel, scurrying in the other direction. His pace is quicker than the previous. Everything he runs past is a blur, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. Of course he isn't going to allow that to occur in the vital moment.

Jeongin knows exactly how to hide, he just has to be really careful.

Really, really careful.

"Spread out!" Jeongin hears one of the men holler. His heart leaps, clenching his teeth with desperation. Glancing over his shoulder, he sees the armed men (there are five of them, from what Jeongin can tell) following the order, two of them running further toward the left, the others to the right.

_Fuck_.

He draws his focus in front of him once more and, to his surprise, was able to dodge a tree he nearly clashed with. Throwing himself behind it, he takes a moment to breathe, eyes gaped, fingers compressing against the bark.

His lips quiver, the sweat plastered against his pale skin causing chills to course through his body. Trying to escape them like this certainly isn't doing him any good, so after taking a second to weigh options he hardly even had, he chooses to do what he's only best at.

_Metamorphosis_.

The youth's mind is spinning like planet earth itself. Steadily, he starts to mutter incoherent words repetitively, voice trembling, eyes closed. The audible sound of approaching feet rings loudly in his ears, however, he remains focused.

Eventually, the adrenaline that's already coursing through his shaking limbs increases in speed. Jeongin bites back a groan when he encounters the terrifying sensation of his insides flaring up, feeling himself shrink in size. He's blacked out for what seems like a long while, and before he even realizes, before the men are at his sides, weapons turned toward him, the boy vanishes.

Utterly puzzled, the weapons are dropped at their sides immediately.

"Where'd he go?!"

They look dumb, turning their heads as they searched around uselessly, one of them eyeing around and up the tree.

God, this is frightening. Although Jeongin is completely used to his ability — like he should be — it never failed to surprise him how much larger enemies (or anybody, actually) appear when this tiny. Adjusting to the rather unique feel of having eight legs, the tarantula skitters past the tree and flees the scene.

Minho's jaw is clenched, patience growing thinner by the second.

Forty minutes.

That's how long ago Jeongin and Hyunjin had left the room. The sun is down already, for Pete's sake, they should have returned a long while ago. At this hour, the duo can fall into a pit of trouble if caught by the police.

Well, Jeongin can, anyway.

Minho shifts around beneath the thick sheets, a bundle of stress biting at his nerves and mind, brows furrowed.

_They'll be here any second now_ , he thinks, trying to swat off the anxiety that was telling him otherwise.

Perhaps tagging along with the youths' would have been a better idea; at least Minho would have known where they were and what they were doing. He would have been able to guide them back home safely.

The sound of distant chatter fills his ears and he loses his train of thought, darting his dark chocolate orbs. The boys must be concerned also — that, or Hyunjin and Jeongin have finally returned, getting the scolding they indeed deserve.

Curiosity gets the best of him, fumbling out of the sheets to rise from his bed and march outside of the room. His feet drag lazily against the hardwood floor as he walks past the few rooms in the large vehicle. The talking gradually dies down and turns into whispers, causing the guy's eyes to narrow with suspicion.

_Something is going on out there_..

The flooring faintly creaks under his weight, face contorting with caution. Father is knocked out in one of the rooms. Currently standing as the only responsible kid tonight, he'd hate for father to assume that he was apart of the stupid 'plan' of theirs'.

Father audibly snores, causing Minho to freeze for a split second. It's evidence that he is emphatically asleep, that was a plus. He silently rushes past whichever bed the elder is in, face contorted in a way that would have sent the others into hysterics.

In a rapid motion he pushes the double doors open, meeting with the turning heads of his brothers. They all appear startled, enlarged eyes and gaped mouths utter proof that they were expecting somebody else — expecting father.

Minho's lips purse, orbs immediately landing on Chan.

"What?" he finally breaks the heavy silence, stepping out of the RV to shut the door. Clearly, the pair hasn't yet returned, and if father were to overhear them, they'd be in a heap of trouble for sure.

"It's late, y'know. If father catches you guys out here, he'll—"

Jisung cuts him off rudely, a snarl in his tone.

“We're waiting for them."

The words are rushed and spat, deliberately meant for Minho to quit talking. He only quirks a brow, hands currently tucked in his pockets as he mingles into the small crowd of his teammates.

"Who's 'them'?"

Chan rolls his eyes, ignoring the remark.

"They know what time it is, so they'll be here shortly."

"You've been saying that for the past ten minutes now." Jackson tries to mutter, failing miserably as he's rewarded with a dark and thunderous glare from the leader. Chan’s about to say something, slightly moving forward until the audible sound of approaching footsteps echoes loudly before them. The group of seven freeze when they spot a sprinting Jeongin, mouths falling open with astonishment.

Chan is the first to step forward, trying to ignore the violent thumping in his chest.

_Where the fuck is Hyunjin_?

Jeongin ceases once he's close enough, panting like tomorrow wouldn’t come. Refusing to look any of them in the eyes (specifically Chan), the boy practically descends to the ground, a deathlike grip around his legs.

"J, what happened?" Chan tries to whisper, and Jeongin would be lying if he said he didn't practically jump out of his skin. Head hung low, his voice is kept cautiously low,

"I-I'm sorry,"

"What? What is it, speak to me!"

His hands are on the younger male's shoulders now, slightly shaking him back and forth. The crowd of six behind the two are just as panicked as their leader, expressions completely identical.

"Where's Hyunjin, Jeongin?"

There's a croak in his voice when he answers,

"They took him."

The strain in his neck is what causes him to rouse. Gritting his teeth to hold back the groan that would have elicited from his throat, Hyunjin slowly begins to roll his neck to the side, awaiting for that painful yet satisfying crack.

He's bound down against something, that's for certain; arms taut above his head, little waist secured tightly so his bare back is against the cool surface beneath him, barely able to kick his feet around. The atmosphere is uncomfortably cool, damp hair brushing against the lids of his eyes as he examines the room he happens to be in.

The only clothing Hyunjin has on are the sweatpants Seungmin allowed him to borrow for the night.

Hyunjin starts to believe that he's completely lost his mind once he comes to the conclusion that this indeed isn't his room. It's practically too dark to even spot any objects nearby; the boy narrows his eyes, searching for any doors, any windows, any _light_. Nothing of the sort is evident.

It takes no longer than a rapid minute for the male to recall the occurrences of earlier, and like the flicker of a light, fear is tumbling down and clashing with his pounding heart.

Oh fuck, and _Jeongin_. Their attackers' might have Jeongin locked up somewhere in this creepy looking place. Hyunjin shuts his eyes and swallows with anxiety, silently praying the younger had escaped. Otherwise, they're both lost and could possibly be here for only god knows how long. Chan doesn't have a clue in the world where they'd walked earlier, and father wasn't even aware of the pair leaving in the first place. And shit, if that man finds out...

The boy audibly whimpers out of horror and frustration, lower lip jutted forward. He can fucking die here. He doesn't know where he is or who has him or what exactly is bound to happen to him tonight.

Hyunjin begins to struggle in his bonds, the metal against his wrists and ankles biting into his skin. Grunting in frustration, he throws his head back, lower lip wedged between his teeth as he sustains squirming around. His hands are in tight fists, veins utterly visible in both his arms and neck, just about ready to burst from the tremendous amount of strength he's putting in.

" _Come on_." he groans breathlessly.

After a few more seconds of futile attempts, Hyunjin ceases to properly breathe, slumping in defeat. The restraints simply won't budge, and to even have the physical strength to break free from such thing would be insane.

He swallows before mouthing incoherent words, struggling to keep his eyes closed, fingers digging into his palms like blades. He'd almost forgot about using his ability, but after several additional minutes of futile attempts and aggravation, he concludes there simply isn't a way out of this. Hyunjin's been caught for good.

A low creak hits Hyunjin's ears, making him jump with surprise. There's light, and when Hyunjin shifts to watch it gradually become bigger, he spots a figure entering the room. His body stiffened in horror.

A voice — wait, multiple voices ring in the room,

"He awake yet?"

"I don't give a shit, hit the lights."

Shoes click against the hardwood flooring and echo loudly as the light vanishes for a brief second, rapidly replaced by the abrupt brightness of the ceilings lighting. The flicker caused the boy to quickly shut his eyes again, heart racing in a deranged manner.

Something — a hand, he would assume — makes contact with Hyunjin's chin to lift his head. At that, he clenches his eyes shut tighter, lips pursed to muffle out any sound of dismay. The mysterious person standing in front of him murmurs something Hyunjin couldn't catch, seemingly playing with his cheeks before releasing him.

"How long has he been in here?" That booming voice could have caused the youth's heart to leap right out of his own chest.

"Dunno. An hour, maybe?"

"Hmph,"

That hand begins to ghost over his upper body, supposedly checking for a pulse. Or perhaps something out of the ordinary.

The sound of metal colliding makes him flinch again, a cart of some sort being wheeled in his direction somehow recognizable to his ears. The one hand that has been harassing him for what seems to have been a solid minute is finally detached. Hyunjin takes this opportunity to peer through his hooded eyes.

He spots men, two of them to be precise. The one closest to him is reaching for a metal bowl, grasp steady so whatever happens to be in it doesn't spill. Goosebumps visibly rise from Hyunjin's exposed skin.

"Sure you don't want me to do it?"

"I've got it,"

Hyunjin resumes pretending to sleep, praying to every god that he isn't noticeably shaking like a leaf. His thoughts have all become a blur, simply unable to think about anything, muscles growing weaker by the second as the loud silence nearly consumes him.

It takes a rather short lived moment for the boy to realize that the bowl was full of hot, boiling water, and in no time was being splashed in his face. The liquid runs along his slender body and soaks his sweats. Solely a brief moment flew by when the pain hadn't yet kicked in, hadn't completely heated his face and body, hadn't caused him to flush a practical maroon. The numbness he once encountered morphed into a new, unbearable flare within seconds, and he is absolutely positive it could draw him nearer to death.

Hyunjin's mind is utterly blacked out as he begins to shriek, body uncontrollably twitching and convulsing in agony. Tears leak from the corners of his eyes like a running river, mingling with the water on his face. His own voice and surroundings suddenly grow distant and it almost feels as if he's drowning, drowning, and drowning.

One of the men practically yell over the screaming, and a moment after the boy is smacked in the face with an audible whack. Nothing but a croaked cry withdraws from his throat as his head snaps to the side.

"Alright, enough is enough, you bitch."

One of them falls into a fit of laughter while the other sets the bowl aside, only to reach for another weapon. Hyunjin attempts to brace himself for whatever is to come, huffing and gasping and struggling.

"I would rather not spend the rest of my night hurting you, but if I must, so be it."

His voice is thunderous, and holy shit, that voice certainly does not match his face. Based on his appearance — round glasses, slicked back brunette hair, large, white lab coat and thin lips — he supposedly should have a slightly higher pitched tone, like some nerdy scientist.

It made him think of Felix.

"Listen," the other speaks slowly, a hand up in defense (as if Hyunjin could even do anything), "all we want is the truth. Okay? We know who you are."

Hyunjin's orbs flicker in that man's direction, gnawing at his lower lip.

"We know who your father is. And, we also know what your father is capable of, so—"

"Who is he?" Hyunjin rasps, swallowing as he awaits for response. Both guys look baffled, mouths parted while blinking a few times. "M-My father. Who is he then?"

"Nobody asked for you to speak, did we—"

The nicer — well, _calmer_ male cuts the other off, waving a dismissive hand. "Park Jinyoung."

_Fuck_.

Hyunjin swallows again, anxiety bubbling in the pit of his stomach. How could they know? Could they be stalkers?

"We'd like to know why you work for him? What are his intentions, exactly?"

The boy averts his eyes elsewhere.

”That isn't my father.."

The darker haired male brings a hand over his face, trying his hardest to be patient. The brunette, however, takes a step forward, merely inches apart from the youth.

"Keep playing innocent if you want, child. You're a terrible liar."

"I-I swear, he isn't!" the desperation in Hyunjin's voice is audible. "You have me mistaken for someone else! He isn't my father!"

He hadn't even been halfway done with talking when the man cackles, playing with the tool in hand.

"Dammit. I really wanted to go easy on you." he states rather mockingly, popping the cap off of what happens to be a long and keen needle. He holds his free hand out and open. "Tube."

A slender tube is placed in the male's palm, and in no time attached to the needle. Hyunjin watches it all with widened, terrified orbs, tears brimming out the corners of his eyes. He doesn't know what he wants more; to scream, or to weep, or to beg for mercy.

What he needs is for somebody, _anybody_ , to bust down those doors just in the nick of time. He needs to wake up so that he could confirm that this is no more than a nightmare.

He's utterly caught up in panicked thoughts and before he knows it, there's a sharp pain coursing through his arm. It's actually bearable at first; like an ordinary doctors shot. Then, a flare kicks in and Hyunjin is drawn into a grunting mess, uselessly fighting with the restraints.

More of the remaining needle sinks deeper into his reddened skin, drawing blood through the long tube that was connected to only god knows what.

"We'll stop whenever you decide to speak up kiddo. The choice is yours."

"I-I'm not— I'm—" the youth struggles, wincing and twitching.

"Shall I?"

He hears the other ask, and after a "go on" is softly spoken, a hot and damp cloth is pressed onto his side, just above his hip bone. An ear piercing shriek causes the men to cringe, yet they attempt to sustain focused, determined to properly break him.

" _Stop_! Stop, _please_!"

His entire body is shaking at an insane rate, a practical representation of what a seizure looks like. The torture goes on for a wicked, agonizingly long two and half minutes, weapons finally dropped at their sides. The room is solely filled with Hyunjin's choked sobs and shallow breathing. He cannot tell the difference from his own sweat and the water, cannot feel his side anymore. Chest rising and falling, the boy watches both guys through heavy-lidded eyes carefully.

His mind is a fog, barely catching the words spoken in front of him. A hand is being waved in his face, somewhat grabbing his attention.

"C'mon, answer the question."

"For fucks sake, _we should have_... _other one_.."

Hyunjin's brows faintly furrow. Their words slip in and out, fleeting as he’s descending into a dazed state.

How much blood did they take?

He's fallen slump in the bonds, head tilted to the side while he tries to hold himself together.

" _Last time_.. _why_... _and what does_..."

Nope. He can't listen. Neither does he have the energy to reply. It isn't long before something sharp and cool makes contact with his non-injured side, steadily trailing down the taut skin. Hyunjin can barely bark out a cry at this point, limbs still twitching.

Something along the lines of seeing his mother again was about the last Hyunjin had managed to hear before completely giving out, all of his surroundings fading to black.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everyone!! as some of you may know, I moved accounts to republish this wonderful fic of mine :)
> 
> those of you who may be new readers, welcome and thank you for reading this far!! you’re in for a ride. hope you like so far, the next chapter will be available next week.


	2. Mistakes Add Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeongin feels guilty.

Park Jinyoung has been pacing around for the past five minutes; at least, it seems to have been that long.

All eight of his guilt-struck spies stand in front of him with their heads hung low, enlarged eyes indicating both dread and anxiety. The tension is high, filling up the warm and muggy atmosphere in the room.

To say that Jinyoung is pissed is simply an understatement. Not a word in the world could describe the amount of fury shooting through every vein in his body.

The scrape his shoes make against the carpet floor cause the boys in front of him to flinch, refusing to meet that man's furious orbs.

Not even Chan could bring himself to look the elder in the eyes.

"Are any of you going to explain why this happened? Why you allowed _him_ —" he points to Jeongin, "out of the house last night?"

When nobody answers, the man decides to add, "Not to mention dragging Hyunjin along."

"Sir?" his voice is small and quiet, drawing everyone's attention in a rapid manner. Jinyoung wears a snarl on his face as those dark orbs flicker in the youngest male's direction. "I-I would have went on my own, but, they were insisting that I—"

"None of you were to be out of this vehicle, ever!"

He roars, every word bouncing off of the walls. The boys remain stiff in their spots, as frigid as the sturdy beds they sleep in.

"You do realize you could have died, right? Hyunjin could have _died_ last night. Let that sink in."

Chan nods. They all signed up for danger last night, all caused something that possibly has father questioning their loyalty.

Jinyoung reaches to pinch the bridge of his nose, taking a brief moment to calm down.

"Seungmin's going to have to work harder now because of you idiots. I've got to pay medical bills, and I'm not doing it alone."

Seungmin hesitantly glances up at the elder, hands kept behind his back. He nods, more so from acceptance than agreement.

"We'll discuss assignments for your next mission at the gym tomorrow." the man huffs and glares down at his watch, releasing a rather petty chuckle. "Well, later today, actually. It's two in the morning."

_Shit_.

They're supposed to be up in less than four hours.

"I'm fucking exhausted. Get to sleep, all of you." the man opens the door as he speaks, watching the group steadily march out of the room. "And do not come crying to me when you've got bags under your eyes and you feel like collapsing."

Jeongin swallows down hard, eyes twitching, fists clenching and unclenching. He's just inches away from father, the man that sure as hell would beat him to a pulp if he wanted to. He's the last to exit the room when suddenly, Jinyoung yanks him backward, hot breath against his ear.

"This isn't the end for you and me, kid. I've still got a few words for you, m’kay?”

Jeongin’s so stiff he can barely nod. Jinyoung releases him, practically shoving the boy out of the room to slam it shut.

"I wish you wouldn't have done it,"

Chan says in a practical whisper. Jeongin is sat in front of the other with his knees against his chest, drawing invisible shapes on the carpet. He wishes he could somehow rid of the aching in his chest, attempting to swallow down the lump in his throat. If Chan hasn't hated him in the past for unforgettable mistakes, he is bound to hate him this time. Though he appears as calm as the night's chill breeze, Jeongin can sense the rage within him. And his eyes..

His eyes are always a glint of yellow when he's on the border to anger.

"I know." he replies slowly, tamely.

Chan blinks.

"This doesn't just affect me as a leader, but us as a team. Hyunjin will need to step out of these next few missions because of this one slip up." Chan explains, "He might need a couple of therapy sessions, too. We don't really know what happened down there, but it's pretty obvious he was tortured."

Jeongin averts his gaze. "I know."

Chan's lips form into a snarl.

"Is that all you have to say? "I know, I know, I know"? After what happened—“

" _Hyung_."

When the smaller meets Chan's eyes again, he can't help the single tear that trails down his cheek, lips trembling. It’s a look that would have softened any of the others; It would never soften Chan, though.

"Please, hyung. I m-messed up, alright?"

His heart thumps with either relief for getting that off his chest, or simply because of the leader's cold attitude. Both, perhaps.

Chan seems to stare him down for quite some time, mindlessly gnawing at his inner cheek. It’s as if he's trying to read the younger's mind, completely understand him, only to no avail.

Jeongin hears him sigh aloud before shifting around, feet brushing against the floor.

"Goodnight, Jeongin." And that was it. The older male exits the room without another peep, leaving Jeongin to sit alone in the dark and break down into a harsh session of sobs.

Perhaps it isn't true; however, the older the boy gets, the more helplessness tends to play a role in his life. Could he have been made from a broken mold? He can't tell.

It hadn't been too hard to rouse in those few hours. Changbin was the first to wake up, a bit puzzled as he found himself feeling rather energized. Instead of drawing the others out of their comfort, he decided to head out on his own; Father could care less, as Chan is usually the first one up and out of the door.

As he marches through the snow, he glances down at his watch.

Five forty-five.

Less than three hours of snoozing and here he is, walking through the bitterness of winter to get to the gym. The team doesn't even have to be up until six, when the sun is just starting to rise. Changbin doesn't mind, though.

He takes his time strolling through the maze-like forest, gazing up at the dark, early morning sky. Indeed a peaceful hour, and honestly (with the correct amount of sleep), Changbin would not mind leaving the house this early all of the time. Sometimes, he wishes that he could own a phone or a camera, just so he could capture God’s beautiful creation and hang the photos in his room.

Yet this is just fine. Even better, perhaps; To witness the aesthetic setting with his own curious orbs, to have the opportunity to smell, to just breathe it in, is an utter satisfactory.

Changbin looks over his shoulder in search of the trailer. He's gotten so far within a few minutes — precisely ten.

That loud ass alarm clock will be their problem now.

At last, he’s approaching the double doors, shuffling through his coat pockets for his ID. It takes a moment to find it, muttering a "shit, I know I have it" before whipping it out and into the frigid air. He scans the card over the scanner and awaits for the audible 'beep'. The lock shifts, his queue to enter. When he pushes the heavy doors open, he's instantly smacked in the face with a blast of cool air. It's nearly colder than outside.

The male faintly shivers after the doors shut behind him. The large room smells of equipment and cleaning products, a smell that often reunited with not just his nostrils, but his mind, too.

Setting aside his bottle of water, Changbin begins removing his winter garments. He figures, it'll take a while to fully adjust to the atmosphere, so he mind as well push himself to start warm ups right away.

The alarm went off about five minutes after Chan drifted to sleep. He'd tried, he really did try — but what was the point of trying to sleep when he had too much on his mind?

Father's words really did sink in; Hyunjin could have died, and such knowledge thrown into his head makes him want to smack Jeongin in the face for being such an idiot. Of course, the youth hadn't intentionally dragged Hyunjin along with him — if the boy genuinely wanted to witness the sunset that much, he needed somebody to be there with him, protect him — but he should have listened to Chan's words from the start. He should have considered the danger he'd put everyone else in if he and Hyunjin were to be caught by a lurking rivalry.

Then again, he himself chose to allow the pair out of the RV. As a matter of fact, the leader stated that he'd keep an eye out for father, make sure the man was knocked out sleeping, and afterwards ordered them to sneak out of the vehicle.

He was an idiot too — they all were.

Chan smacks a hand against his forehead when clamorous pounding sounds at his door, along with the booming voice of father.

"Get up! Everyone up!"

Eyes rolled back, the male groans as he moves from beneath the sheets. This is always the worst part of their morning routine.

He takes a brief moment to stretch, arms above his head, back arched ever-so-slightly, grimacing until he hears a faint yet audible crack.

Five minutes of sleep.

_Today will be something.._

Chan drags his tired body toward the door and yanks it open quickly, revealing the tall figure whom was creating the noise.

He blinks. "G'morning, sir."

"And a good morning to you as well, Bang Chan."

Jinyoung almost wears a smirk on his face, and Chan isn't very fond of it. It just genuinely isn't something Park Jinyoung does. Not unless they succeed in a task.

Chan attempts to smile back.

"Don't forget your water bottle, alright? Spend about an hour or so in the gym, and I'll meet you all there to discuss some new arrangements. Cool?"

"Cool." Chan shrugs his shoulders. Jinyoung pats him on the arm before turning on his heel to approach another door.

It is odd, actually, to think that only hours ago father was angry, yelling and pointing in their faces. For a situation so brutal, Chan's quite shocked to witness the man in such an upbeat mood. He's got to be up to something.

Chan slightly shuts the door to change clothes, shirt coming off after a single tug. He absentmindedly tosses it aside and searches through his dresser full of organized shirts. For working out, the male usually throws on a black tank top and a pair of sweats. With the harsh condition of the weather, he decides to wear a long sleeved shirt over the tank top, simply for extra protection.

"We're up, dammit! We're up!"

Chan overhears one of the members — Jisung, he thinks — exclaim as the repetitive knocking sustained. He chuckles under his breath.

In a rapid motion, the male pulls the sleeveless material over his head, smoothing out the wrinkles before repeating the action with the long sleeved shirt. After shutting the drawer, he gapes the lower one to inspect for a specific pair of sweats.

There’s an abrupt knock at his door again.

"Come in." he orders, turning his head once the door faintly creaks. Chan is met with a shirtless, swollen faced Minho. His hair is completely windswept, an additional piece of evidence that the boy had literally just woken up mere seconds ago.

Lips jutted forward, the younger boy practically mutters, "Where are my keys?"

At first, Chan has to take a second to process the inquiry, grasp an idea of what he'd just been asked before reaching for the keys on top of his dresser. They jingle through the air as their tossed around, successfully landing into Minho’s hands.

"Use those wisely, yeah?" he yells over his shoulder, earning a loud "uh huh" as Minho is already strolling away. He swings the tiny objects around his index finger like they were inexpensive and meaningless toys, bare shoulder vaguely brushing against Jinyoung’s as they pass by in the narrow hall, disheveled, dark brown head of hair bouncing with every step he takes.

He enters his shared room to see Jisung wrestling to yank his blue sweats above his hips, wriggling and hopping around. Minho would have laughed if he weren’t so drowsy at the moment.

Stepping over sprawled out clothing that were carelessly tossed onto the floor, Minho sets the keys aside and slides open the mini door connected to the wall. He punches in a code of invisible numbers, mouthing the digits like a prayer. An audible _ding_ indicates that he has successfully entered the code. Sliding another little door back, he can’t help the small smile pulling at his lips when blessed with the sight of a partially filled pack of 'arcane cigarettes' and a lighter, locked behind a secure, silver colored set of bars.

The keys are reunited with his hand, some seeped between his fingers as he searches for the single key that only unlocks this particular box.

At last, Jisung's sweats cooperated and are clutching onto his hips, a sigh of relief cutting into the quiet room. He swiftly turns his head to watch Minho.

"Isn't it too early?" he questions.

"Dunno, but I don't care, either."

It opens on the first attempt, a rather satisfied Minho gripping the small pack and immediately pulling it open, a decent amount of cigs available. It would do for now, but sooner or later they'll need more.

Grabbing for the lighter, Minho steps from one side of the room to the other, standing beside the slightly opened door. Jisung eagerly follows, grin tugging at his lips. Minho eyes the younger male, and for a moment he considered not sharing at all, but he figured Jisung needed a boost as well. Placing the butt between his thin lips, Minho offers one to Jisung. Like he had expected, the other gladly accepts, chucking it between his own lips.

The click of the lighter is a sound so pleasant to their ears, a reminder that they're about to receive a wonderfully soothing treatment. Jisung slightly sticks his head out for Minho to light the fire over both cigarettes at once, mentally counting to three before releasing the ignition.

The pair shut their eyes with content, steadily inhaling the mystical, cloudy substance. It burns in the slightest, tingling in their chests and making it's way down to caress and heal their organs and bones. A slow yet pleasurable progress, and with the amount of transformations made and abilities repetitively used in the past few weeks, this was a much needed session.

Minho's completely zoned out, the slender cig pulled from his lips as he allowed the chemicals to propose its magic. Jisung opens his eyes after pulling his own cig from his mouth, cheeks still puffed with smoke. He smiles and lets his mouth fall open, exhaling some of the substance and deliberately blowing it into the older's face.

Minho's eyes flutter with awareness, not an ounce of amusement on his face. Instead, he smacks him in the face with the back of his hand, earning an "ah" that mingled with childish giggles.

"Fuckin' dumbass! You're not supposed to exhale!" he scolds the laughing youth, throwing a halfhearted punch to his shoulder. Jisung's hand comes up in autopilot to caress where he's been slapped, smug grin still plastered on his face. "Somebody else could've used that,"

"Relax," he waves a hand of dismissal, "I still managed to inhale some of it."

"Yo, Minho!” Jackson peers into the room, eyes narrowing the second the moderately acrid scent fills his nostrils. His eyes flicker down to the thin white sticks between their fingers. He exhales a laugh, shaking his head in utter disbelief. "You really couldn't wait til later, huh?"

"I don't see you possessing people over three times a day. Plus," Minho hovers the cig over his mouth, "I haven't had the proper time to do this in over a month, so.."

Jackson nods with a quirk of an eyebrow. He's quite impressed the boy was able to wait that long, considering the fact that he is normally caught smoking arcane cigarettes at least every two weeks.

"Fair enough."

Jisung grasps for a random shirt, figuring it wouldn't make a difference to wear a proper shirt to work out in when he'll end up removing it anyway. Jackson glances at him before clearing his throat, a recall of inquiry knocking on his brain.

"Anyway, you seen my shirt?"

Minho's eyes dart from left to right. "Which one?"

"The white tank top I let you borrow last week. Y'know, with the weird stain?"

Minho snickers and gestures toward the jungle of clothes.

"Good luck."

Jackson deadpans. “You can't be serious.”

The roommates crack into a fit of laughter, eyes glint with pure amusement. The eldest scoffs, a free hand glued to the golden knob.

"Forget it, I'll wear something else."

He's about to exit the room when Minho abruptly speaks again.

"Want a smoke?"

Minho waves a new one in his face, his own tucked between his pink, dry lips. Jackson thinks, the temptation all too powerful. However, the thought of rushing the process instead of savoring it seems like a complete waste of time.

"Nah, I'll wait."

"Sure?" Minho lights the end of his cigar once more, the blazing scent growing thicker in the atmosphere. Jackson crinkles his nose.

"Positive."

A smirk settles on his face when he swiftly removes the piece from his mouth and slowly huffs, a puff of smoke sailing in Jackson's direction. Jisung laughs, bending to inspect through random shirts and pants on the floor. Jackson makes a face, a solemn look of disapproval.

"You know damn well father would beat both your asses if he caught you doing that, right?"

"Would he, though? I think he loves me too much to do such thing."

Jackson rolls his eyes.

"Now Jisung, he's a different story."

Jisung is quicker than a heartbeat when he whips around, a shirt in his grip as he glares at his roommate.

"Father loves me just as much!”

"He loves us all just as much." Jackson corrects him, "Now quit fooling around and get ready. I'm pretty sure we have a lot to cover today."

"Okay, _Chan_." Jisung quips, earning a snicker from Minho. The oldest rolls his eyes once more and tries to leave, only to be wheeled back in when the younger grabs his attention once more. "Hyung, wait! Here's your shirt!"

Arms open and prepared for the toss, he's rather baffled when the piece of fabric lands on his face instead, causing him to stumble backwards and collide with the door.

"Shit!"

Chan claps his hands once, the pop causing heads to turn in autopilot.

"Okay!" he begins, "I need you all to stand in front of the board, please."

Utters and grumbles reach his ears as the group set their chosen equipment and bottles aside. Chan ignores them, removing the cap to the marker in hand to write a message on the whiteboard hanging on the wall. The silence was absolutely ridiculous — a consistent reminder of heavy tension. Though they rarely spend time socializing at the gym to begin with, this mornings' quiet is not their ordinary quiet. Even Chan knows that.

He clears his throat, watching his brothers gather around him, orbs scanning the message before them.

_Exceed_.

"Because of Hyunjin's condition, we have to exclude him for a while."

Jeongin's heart hammers against his chest and he tries to avert his eyes, tries to ignore the resentment plucking at his nerves. Nobody glances at him, yet he can feel everyone's eyes, everyone's attention being drawn toward him.

"With that being said," Chan starts to scribble words on the board, "we need to work harder now. Every single one of you will need to push and step out of your comfort zone. Use a bigger weight. Aim for a bigger number. Sweat harder."

Chan takes a step back to examine the name he wrote, eyes steadily being drawn to Seungmin. The boy shifts from his slightly slouched position.

"How's your schedule looking?"

"I don't work until this weekend." he responds quietly, hands snaking behind his back. Chan nods.

"Sounds good. This week—" their leader jots a list of exercises beside the boy's name, explaining slowly as he writes, "I need you to focus on nothing but cardio. You work a lot kid, so you should spend time focusing on every muscle. Sound good?"

"Got it."

The rest of the group receive tremendous loads of exercises, each possibly harder than the last. Chan gives himself cardio as well, voluntarily choosing to fill in for Hyunjin. When he finishes discussing, the room returns to it's tense silence.

Jeongin drags his mat across the flooring, migrating toward the center of the room and further away from the stern leader. The youth simply can't face him without feeling kind of intimidated. Labeling himself as a coward seems about accurate, because although he might be jumping to conclusions, he can't back the notion of Chan possibly hating him. And the thought alone frightens him.

In a way he feels out of place, almost as if he doesn't belong. Besides Chan, nobody has acknowledged him; not even Seungmin.

He takes a sip of water before setting it aside, grabbing for his weights and stepping onto the cushioned mat. He shuts his eyes and attempts to focus, ignoring the heavy tension he still felt around him. The boys' are starting to talk, starting to whisper, and Jeongin tries to listen to all of it. Of course, every conversation mingles and becomes an entirely different language, but he tries to listen for Hyunjin's name, for his own name, even. It isn't necessary, as he is aware of their love for him, however it feels necessary, considering the damage he had created and—

"Doing alright, mate?"

Jeongin startles from the maze of thoughts he hadn't even realized he was in, glancing at the blonde who's approaching his side. He's grinning, and to this day the younger male will never understand how one can simply be this full of glee at six in the morning. Not to mention the lack of sleep.

Jeongin nods, watching the older set his weights and water bottle aside. Though he genuinely isn't in the best mood to speak, shooing Felix away would hurt his own feelings. Shooing any of his teammates away, as a matter of fact. Plus it'd hurt his pride; father's harsh words, Chan's angry ranting, the watchful orbs of his brothers, and the grimace Hyunjin wore on his face left an aching scar in Jeongin's heart.

The boy refuses to let them see how much last nights events had fazed him.

He huffs, lifting the weights so they were aligned with his chest.

"You sleep okay?" Felix asks, receiving a single nod in response.

_Fuck no_ , is what Jeongin wants to say. Avoiding that was a very wise choice, though.

"I guess," the words are released a lot duller than Jeongin had intended, mentally groaning. To convince the older he truly is okay, he adds, "Wasn't the best, but.."

Felix awaits for the boy to continue, nodding a moment later when he realizes Jeongin has nothing else to say.

"Me too," the Australian lifts his own weights, "it's harder to sleep nowadays. Y'know, having to migrate and stuff."

Oh. _That_.

Jeongin sniffles while nodding in agreement, guiding the weights to his sides, and after a few seconds returns them to the previous state, a repetitive process. Felix chooses to start with lunges, as requested beside his name on the board.

"You've been pretty quiet this morning, J."

"Have I?"

"It wasn't really your fault, ya know," he's practically whispering now, reassurance audible in his voice, "we couldn't have predicted that that would happen. I mean, Jackson could have, but technically we aren't supposed to use our abilities unless we're working."

Jeongin's brows furrow with confusion. Technically, however the elder could have considered using his ability, especially since they were sneaking out behind Jinyoung's back. To top that, the trailer just so happens to be sitting amongst a forest; only god knows where those guys came from, and how long since they've been watching them.

Jeongin decides to place that info to the side and agree with Felix. He wants to at least feel some sort of sympathy toward himself.

"Yeah..”

Felix shifts to switch positioning of his legs, left leg extended behind him and the other slightly bent forward. Jeongin sighs and drops the weights at his sides, this time halting the workout.

The more he thought about it, the more the boy realizes; Felix has always been so kindhearted, so caring to each of his teammates. He's quite understanding, thus being one of the many reasons everyone in the pack has a soft spot for him. With Jeongin's nerves currently bundled in tight and irritable knots, perhaps pretending isn't required when around this guy.

He needs somebody to talk to.

"I, um.. I'm pretty sure Chan hates me now, though."

Felix shoots the younger with a look of umbrage, blonde strands of hair moving in sync with the abrupt motion.

"Chan does not hate you.”

"How can you be sure? Father scolded us and Chan tried to lecture me. Keep in mind this isn't the first time I've fucked up."

"Well if that's the case, then he hates all of us."

The Aussie isn't wrong. He can count the numerous amount of times he himself and the rest of the gang have messed up. Excluding their days as trainees, Jeongin definitely hasn't been the only one causing accidents. The tasks they are given aren't guaranteed to be accomplished.

Felix chuckles, "I would say we are only human, but that'd be a lie, wouldn't it?"

It's more of a statement than an inquiry. Jeongin chuckles through his nose, resuming to his previous motions.

"Still, I feel really bad. Honestly I wish I was in Hyunjin's shoes instead."

The older quirks his brows at that, lips formed into a thin line. He rapidly shakes his head in disagreement.

"You don't want to be in Hyunjin's shoes right now. Trust me." the blond looks over his shoulders a couple of times before leaning a bit closer to the youth. "Did you see his wounds?"

Jeongin faintly quivers. Recalling such image haunts his memory and will forever scar him. Guilt plucks at his nerves once more and he swiftly nods a single nod, swallowing hard.

Felix averts his eyes to face the blue painted wall.

"He'll be alright, though. We all will." the smile is audible in his voice, utterly high-spirited and full of reassurance. Jeongin attempts to return the exact same energy, twitched smile tugging at a corner of his lips.

Felix huffs and stands up straight, taking a moment to breathe. About two more reps, and lounges will be completed. He stares down at his shoes, studying the sky blue mat he stands upon. He admires the color. In fact, it reunites him with a few foggy memories: swimming, ice skating, and simply playing in the sun when he and the others were allowed free time.

Sometimes Felix misses their days as trainees. Of course, being granted a mission will solely bring them closer to their goal. One step at a time and they'll be rewarded with peace, as father promised.

Heck, perhaps they will have time to ice skate again before they officially leave for the winter. Although he hasn't stood on ice for what has felt like decades.. and he's having trouble trying to recall why..

Felix tilts his head to the side slightly, a brow arched downward in the slightest.

"Hey, uh, J?"

"Hm?"

The boy faces the other, attempting to keep his breathing steady. Felix is quiet at first, like he's trying to process the thoughts swarming his mind. He meets Jeongin's dark, concerned orbs, confusion visible in his own expression.

"What ever happened to mum?"

Time seems to freeze. Jeongin almost looks identical to a fish out of water, mouth parted and eyes narrowed slightly.

"What?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so we can clear up some confusion, here are the characters' abilities:
> 
> Chan: vampire
> 
> Minho: can possess/salamander
> 
> Hyunjin: werewolf
> 
> Felix: can lift heavy objects/fox
> 
> Jisung: firebird
> 
> Changbin: giant crow
> 
> Jeongin: tarantula
> 
> Jackson: can predict future 20 minutes prior/shapeshifter
> 
> Seungmin: pit bull
> 
> the arcane cigarettes are supposed to be inhaled because they help the gang recover after constantly using their abilities. You'll discover more later, I promise <3
> 
> stay tuned!!


	3. We Aren’t on the Same Page

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hyunjin recalls past events that father doesn't;
> 
> Felix learns the story behind their mother and her vanishing.

Pained grunts fill Jinyoung’s immense room. A cloth had been tucked into Hyunjin's mouth to reduce any loud noises, the boy occasionally biting into the piece of fabric whenever a sharp twinge coursed through the deep cuts on his stomach. His breathing had emerged into shallow gasps, body trembling as he tried to remain still. The man sitting in front of him assisted, arm clasped around his waist as he proceeds to stick a needle and thread through the flushed skin.

Beads of sweat trickle down Hyunjin's forehead and gather into his meshed head of hair. He grimaces, eyes glistening and toes curling as a low, exasperated whine emerges from his throat. He wants to occupy his mind, however when he pushes his brain to do so, flashing images of blood and sharp objects corrupt him. Suddenly he feels trapped.

He hears praises, words like "you're doing great" and "almost done".

_Bullshit_.

Trembling, the boy turns his head in the slightest to face the man, tears welling in his eyes.

"P-Please, stop."

The muffled plea causes the doctor to slow down his process, orbs meeting the other's pained ones. He sighs sympathetically. "As much as I want to follow your request, your father would like this procedure to be done as quickly as possible. I'm sorry, but I must continue."

A single tear rushes down the side of his face and gathers onto his flushed ear.

"It's alright. You're almost done, I promise."

Hyunjin refused to believe that — he felt as though this was taking several, several hours.

An eternity of excruciating agony ends the moment the sound of the needle collides against the surface of the wooden table beneath him.

Hyunjin releases a dry huff, shutting his eyes with pure relief.

"Well done." says the elder, audibly shifting from his seat and gathering his belongings. "I'll return in two weeks to observe the healing process."

Hyunjin does not make a sound. Every muscle in his body is stiff.

Jinyoung's head snaps up at the sound of gentle knocking, narrowed eyes glued to the door.

"Come in," he says. The doctor peers into the room quite hesitantly, orbs searching and eventually landing upon the man sitting in front of a large desk.

He clears his throat. "The procedure was a success. However, he'll need quite a bit of time to fully recover."

Jinyoung blinks. "How long is 'a bit of time'?"

"About a month, sir."

The man grimaces and shuts his eyes. Ten months from now, they are to be standing among a crowd of thousands, millions even. They, he and his large gang of spies, are to gain power to prevent Yang Hyun-suk from even attending the upcoming election. Waiting for Hyunjin is simply not an acceptable option.

His eyes open. "So, you're telling me, that those stitches are going to take a _month_ to heal him?"

"Stitches only take about a week, however, I suggest you allow him some time to both mentally and physically recover."

Jinyoung sputters at that. "You calling my kid a pussy?"

The doctor's mouth rapidly opens to speak, but Jinyoung beats him to the chase.

"Let me remind you, I have a team of nine boys. Each have been through hell and back. I don't know what happened the night Hyunjin was taken, but I know for a fact that he'll be able to suck it up and fight back those injuries. Like he always has.”

"Uh, b— sir," his words are a stumbling mess, "I highly suggest that you speak to him yourself first, and let him decide what he wants to do."

"What's the point, though?" Jinyoung says, amused laughter escaping through his nose. "I know what he wants."

The doctor releases a rather exasperated sigh, watching the other rise from the chair. Park Jinyoung is, has always been, a very complicated person.

"Still. Must I inform you, he was very, well, frightened during the procedure."

"How so?"

"He begged me to cease the performance. Not only that, but he looked extremely.. traumatized—"

"That's normal, ain't it?" Now the man is full on laughing, slightly slumped forward with his hands resting along the surface of the table. "He was awake during surgery, for Pete's sake!"

"I understand that, however—"

"Look," he starts solemnly, the laughter vanishing within seconds, "I've already made up my mind. Your persuading is utterly useless."

A quick moment of silence.

The doctor sighs out of defeat.

"Very well, then." he smiles, "I wish you and Hyunjin the best of luck. Please call if anything urgent occurs."

Jinyoung nods — a nod of response, and of dismissal. The doctor bows his head respectfully and quickly leaves.

The minute he had left, Jinyoung snorted at the thought of his previous words. _A month_. Absolutely absurd. No way in hell would Hyunjin need to take that long to recover.

After the front door audibly shuts, the man decides to check on his spy. The blood was certainly cleaned off — at least, he hopes and prays it had been — and perhaps the kid has slipped into a blissful slumber by now.

His socked feet scrape along the surface of the hardwood floor as he proceeds into the larger room, the door faintly creaking. Like he suspected, the boy was sound asleep, hands instinctively gripping onto the edges of the desk. He looks quite at peace, yet again, he doesn't. His expression twists and contorts with discomfort, bruised knuckles a tint of white and his body visibly quivering. He's also sweating. A lot.

Jinyoung sighs as he reaches the desk at last, faint smile on his face.

_Two weeks_ , he decides. Hyunjin will have two full weeks of recovery, no more, no less.

In a very delicate manner, the man lifts Hyunjin's shirt to reveal the white wrap covering his stomach. A few spots were damp with drying blood. He observes the boy for a moment, as if he were weighing options, then tugs the shirt back over his stomach.

A few wounds should not have done him too much damage. With a couple of weeks of proper care, Jinyoung can almost guarantee that Hyunjin will recover quickly and make it seem as if nothing ever happened to begin with. And as far as the men who injured him, Jinyoung has mentally stored their appearances somewhere in his mind. He remembers what they look like, where they were, and has various ideas of why they chose to capture one of his spies.

Too deep in thought, his expression shifts when he notices Hyunjin's squirming. He releases the hem of his shirt and watches. The boy releases a low groan, his grip on the edges becoming tighter.

"Hyunjin," Jinyoung says in a hushed tone. He doesn't hear, though, utterly lost in some strange nightmare. Forehead creased, Hyunjin releases yet another groan, this time louder than the last. Beads of sweat form before his hairline, breathes completely uneven and shallow.

"Hyunjin." Jinyoung speaks louder this time, only earning a pained grunt of response. "Hyunjin, wake up."

With a gentle shake to the arm, the boy jolts sharply. It wakes him up in an instant, however, Hyunjin appears tremendously traumatized, as if he'd just witnessed the devil himself. Eyes big with surprise, he attempts to sit up. Jinyoung is quick to settle him back down, placing a hand against his chest.

"Relax, relax." he says in a hushed tone, "It's only me. You're okay."

Hyunjin, a panting mess, stares up at the man as if he's never seen him before. As if Jinyoung has violated him.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asks slowly.

A pregnant pause.

"Uh huh," Hyunjin finally nods a few seconds later. He looks very uncertain, very uneasy. Jinyoung swallows anxiously.

_They seriously do not need another Lee Felix situation_.

The man hovers two fingers over Hyunjin's face.

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

Another pregnant pause.

"Uh," Hyunjin's breath is shaky, "t-two?"

Jinyoung exhales with relief. "Good. That's good, Hyunjinnie." He runs his fingers through the boy's dark strands, mentally praising God. "Do you remember what happened to you?"

The boy nods slowly, lips jutted forward.

"I-I'm sorry. Really, I am. I just.. I-I only wanted—"

"Hey," Jinyoung rests a hand against Hyunjin's arm, "relax. You aren't in trouble."

Hyunjin's plush lips form an 'o'.

"All I would like to know is what occurred. What caused them to torture you?"

Hyunjin's brows pull into a frown of confusion, causing Jinyoung to mirror the expression.

”Huh?”

"They tortured you, didn't they?"

He swallows, tentative. "Who..?"

Jinyoung blinks, lowering his voice, "The men? They captured you that night, don't you remember?"

"I-I don't.."

Jinyoung curses under his breath, stepping away from the desk for a moment.

He assumes that this isn't another Felix situation, but it's quite similar; Memory loss.

He frowns, glancing down at the younger again.

"That doesn't make any sense, didn't you just tell me you remembered?"

Hyunjin's incredibly anxious.

"I'm.. I'm sorry, please. I don't remember anything." the glint of fear in his eyes is plenty to serve as his proof. "I only r-remember falling through the lake th-that night. Nothing else, I swear-"

"Lake?"

Now Hyunjin's staring up at the man, like he hadn't expected that inquiry.

"You were there when it happened.."

"Hyunjin, this.." he wipes a hand across his face, standing straight, "You must be thinking of a nightmare, or something. It's probably-"

"No, dad, this was real! Everyone saw it, everyone was there! You, mom, Jeongin. Everyone!”

Jinyoung sighs with defeat. It wasn't like he could convince the youth he was wrong, because he’s simply confused. He'd regain his memory, as well as his strength, someday soon.

He can make that happen.

Jinyoung tells the boy to get some more rest before dismissing himself, drawing the door closed behind him.

Two hours. No more, no less.

Chan sat the gang in the center of the room after a large series of workouts. He plops down between Minho and Jackson.

"Father will be here soon," he starts after a clap of his hands, "for now, I need ideas. Someone tell me what we should do to improve father's chance of winning the election."

The group of seven remain silent, fiddling or staring or doing something other than answering. Chan's eyes dart at each of them carefully, every quiet second ticking slowly. He catches Seungmin shifting nervously, quirking a brow upwards.

"Seungmin?"

The boy's head rises in an almost cautious manner.

"C'mon, you're the brains, aren't you? You can't think of anything?"

"I mean," he starts, slightly adjusting his round glasses, "I could, but I've said it so many times. It's becoming repetitive."

Chan nods, tearing away their eye contact to look at the others.

"I'm tired of making mistakes." Chan announces slowly. "Lately, I've noticed how much we've been.. slacking, let's put it that way. I know that the process of migration might be causing you all to feel stressed and anxious, but we've done it before, have we not?"

Although heavy silence zips in the air among them all, Chan does witness a few nods of reply.

"Stressing our old man out isn't doing us any good. You recall his promises, don't you?"

Jisung nods quickly. "Freedom," he says.

"Freedom, and generally a better future. And to me, all we're doing is taking his kindness for granted."

"But.." Changbin starts, hand rubbing at the back of his neck. "We _are_ trying. Sometimes we can't help the mistakes we make."

"You're right, but we also can help prevent making mistakes to begin with. Especially stupid ones, am I right?"

Jeongin's face flushes. Perhaps the youth is overthinking it, but Chan is deliberately being petty. It is utterly audible in his voice, that cold tone of his when he often spoke the truth. And a painful truth that was.

The leader clears his throat.

"I want every single one of us to be able to prove to father that we can make him president. He _will_ be president."

Chan witnesses a series of rapid nods from the seven listeners.

"We’ve only got ten months until the election, which means we don't have much time. Let's make good use of the time we have to earn more money, gain strength, and receive more votes. We can make this happen.”

Felix hesitantly raises a hand. "Uh, hyung?"

"What's up, Lix?" Chan shifts so he is sitting upright.

"I, uh.. this isn't about father and what not, but.. would you by any chance happen to k—"

A loud beep, along with the door being pushed open startles the group from their concentration. They all turn their focus toward the figure entering.

"Sorry I'm a little late, guys." says Jinyoung, faint smile on his pale face.

"It's okay"s and "hello, father"s zip through the little gym as the man sets a few of his belongings on the wooden bench near the door.

"What are we all discussing?" he questions.

"I was going over expectations for the next couple of months." Chan explains. Jinyoung nods with approval.

"Sounds good." he replies. "And how long were workouts this morning?"

Jisung releases an exasperated huff and replies,

”Two hours."

"Wonderful. Keep that up and you guys will be able to face anything."

Jeongin, eyes locked on his entangled fingers, flinches with astonishment when father takes a seat beside both him and Felix.

"So as you all know, we will be migrating sooner or later. However, I don't want this to be our ordinary migration."

Brows furrow.

"With that being said," the man reaches for a clipboard that was abandoned by his side, flipping a few pages as he explained, "I have a new task for one of you to complete."

That sentence caused the boys to sit upright, interest gleaming within their dark orbs. Well, everyone except Jeongin. The boy simply hated volunteering, and now he definitely isn't up for stepping in. As for the others, stepping foot into a new task and succeeding was a job they truly enjoyed. Anything that makes Jinyoung proud is their pleasure.

Jinyoung silently reads over the notes and quirks an eyebrow.

"Hm. Actually, a couple of you could pitch into this one."

He brings his attention to his team, eying each of them pensively. He considered allowing Chan to choose, but after last night, Jinyoung decides it’s best to leave it to himself for now.

"Tonight I'm sending two of you to a bar. I want you to dress your best, disguise yourself a bit, and gather as much money as you can."

_Wow_ , is what Jisung wants to comment. Then again, father has put them in situations much crazier before. There is nothing to be baffled about.

"No fighting involved?" Jinyoung turns his head in Minho's direction as the male speaks, "No weapons? Tasers? Nothing?"

"Weapons aren't very necessary for this one. If any punk tries putting their hands on you, you know how to use your fists."

"Alright, so who should do it?” Chan inquires.

Jinyoung smiles, the click of his pen audible as he starts to write.

"I'm thinking.. Seungmin?"

The boy's eyes gape and he rapidly shakes his head. Jinyoung laughs.

"No? What's the matter?"

"I-I'm just not a big fan of crowds." he states sheepishly.

"That's fine. You can spend the day working on those speeches with me, yeah?"

Seungmin nods. "Sure."

The man taps the ink pen against his chin mindfully. Without a doubt, Felix is bound to succeed in this one. He's got the looks, the attitude, and can easily perceive when and how to attack his victims. Felix had automatically been chosen when Jinyoung started plotting the task in the first place. Perhaps Changbin could tag along as well. The male is all muscle and appears intimidating, and intimidation could make great use for this particular task.

It makes sense to put them together, because after all, the pair are indeed the strongest of the gang. Jinyoung clicks his tongue after his options are weighed.

"Felix and Changbin."

They avert their eyes from elsewhere to face father.

"I expect no slip ups in this one. I mean, this is probably the easiest task I'm giving you. So—"

He hands the clipboard over to Chan, who gladly takes it to review the written notes.

"Because Hyunjin is resting, I will test the earpieces myself. The rest of you know what to do."

"Father?" Jackson says lowly, "May I ask what this task has to do with migrating?"

His lips tug upward into a smile while he rises to his feet. That same mysterious smile Chan witnessed earlier this morning.

"Because, once Felix and Changbin get the extra money, we will move into a house."

Astonished gasps and utters fill the room.

"No way," mutters Minho, unaware of Jisung's tough grip against his forearm.

"Seriously? Like, a house house?" Seungmin inquires loudly.

"Yup. We'll discuss upgrades later." He glances down at his watch. "As of right now, you guys have about ten hours before your task begins. Best of luck."

The temperature ranged from fifty to thirty degrees, constantly shifting for no apparent reason. Another session of snowfall is supposed to occur this week, thus marking the fourth time for the season. It irks the gangs nerves, honestly; snow caused delays, delays caused waiting, and waiting caused useless days spent in the RV. Or, perhaps, those days aren't necessarily useless, given the fact that they often spend that time to focus on designing clothes and weapons for father.

The sky was solely partly cloudy this afternoon, much to their surprise. Even the sun had decided to peer from behind a fluff of cloud, although it is not changing the fact that it is ridiculously cold. Not an ounce of snow would melt.

After the short lived meeting, Felix reminded his leader that he needed to speak to him. Is it important? That, Felix could not even answer himself. He is confused and a little anxious. When he confronted Jeongin about mother, the boy only seemed to shrug it off.

" _You should ask Chan, hyung_." Jeongin had suggested. And ask Chan he did.

"She almost killed you. She tried to kill you."

Knees against his chest, the smaller male stares straight ahead absentmindedly, absorbing every word Chan tells him. Chan is seated beside him, utterly careless of the wet patches the snow creates on his sweats.

" _Mother_ tried to kill me?"

Chan hums along with nodding his head.

"Why?"

A soft sigh.

"Well, if we're being honest, none of us really know why. She just.." he pauses to carefully think about his next words, "I think something was wrong with her. Mentally."

Felix draws in his lower lip. "Maybe it was because.. never mind."

"Go on, it's okay."

Felix takes in a steady breath.

"Maybe it was because I wasn't an infant when father took me in."

Chan twitches his lips as he ponders those words momentarily.

"Maybe."

It was a discussion nobody in the team knew how to genuinely answer. Mother hadn't favored any of them, nor had she disliked any of them. At least, perhaps she was great at hiding such fact.

Chan can recall the day he'd been running, sprinting to come to Felix's rescue. His eyes never left the boy whom was struggling to keep his head above ice cold water, helplessly reaching for mother's hand. He can recall how shaky he was after pulling Felix to safety, cradling the drenched, limp boy in his arms. He felt so, so sick to the stomach that he could have vomited on the spot if he really needed to. Mother had drowned, and that was the last time Chan remembers witnessing a sobbing Jinyoung.

"So.. she ended up drowning instead of me?" Felix asks quietly, receiving another nod of response.

"She was trying to pull you under with her. Jackson and I got to you right in time. Father tried to save her.. but.." He trails off, deciding that enough was said.

The younger Aussie gently scratches at his scalp, finally averting his eyes to face the other.

"That incident diagnosed you with short term memory loss. But honestly, your memory seems to be all over the place now."

"How so?"

"That happened over two years ago, and all of a sudden you thought about mother today."

"Oh." was all Felix could manage. He's downright given up on attempting to picture the scene. He can remember her face, of course, but not the incident. Every memory he shared with that woman is a blur, and suddenly he can't remember a good nor a dreadful experience he's possibly had with her. The only abuse he's ever encountered was when he was just a child — a small, defenseless, and utterly lost child.

Felix escaped the parlous home of his biological parents at the age of twelve, and after turning thirteen, he was brought into the arms of Park Jinyoung. He is not sure if he'd been the cause of mother's unusual act, and is not sure if he's ever willing to find that out. The guilt would spread within him like a wildfire.

The sound of scraping against the snow startles Felix from his notion, facing a shifting Chan.

"I know I rarely say this, Lix, but I really do appreciate you. Losing you would have been like losing a little brother."

Felix twitches a small smile. "Really?"

"Mhm,"

"But, we all are brothers in a way, right?"

Chan seems to ponder the inquiry for a few seconds.

"Sure."

  
  


Seungmin went over a few pages of a particular speech he prepared for father. One o' clock was right around the corner when his job called, asking for his assistance. They claimed it was "urgent", and whether it genuinely was or not, Seungmin could care less. Father allowed him to accept and get ready, promising the boy that he would practice his speech while he was gone.

The remainder of the seven gathered up in Chan's room after a few hours of designing clothes for Felix and Changbin.

"Don't you think they should wear wigs, too?" Jisung asks, back against the railing of the bed. Changbin sputters.

"Absolutely not."

Chan rolls his eyes. "We all know you won't, Changbin."

"I don't see what the problem is," Felix says, "there isn't anything wrong with wearing a wig."

"Exactly. Keep in mind that this is only temporary." Jackson adds, who's busy scribbling on the large computer screen with a silver stylus. Jeongin watches with enlarged pupils as the elder sketches strands of short, curly hair. "I'm already on it, Han."

Both Jisung and Changbin scramble to their feet to peer over Jackson's shoulder. The design is cute — something that will definitely be on Felix's head tonight, not Changbin's.

Jisung's lips curve upward and he looks back at Felix.

"This really suits you, Felix." he comments. "I think you should color it purple, hyung."

"Gross," mutters Changbin. He turns to approach the corner Chan stands at. The leader has been rereading the notes for the past five minutes now.

"Quit acting like it's for you." Minho says, counting the stash of cash in father's safe.

"Team." Chan abruptly speaks. Heads turn rapidly in his direction, every motion they all were making halted. "Anyone know where 'Sosiji Club' is located?"

Changbin's orbs enlarge with aversion.

"Sosiji? Don't tell me _that's_ the bar father's sending us to."

Momentarily, Chan stares at him, then slowly begins to nod his head. Changbin gags, waving a dismissive hand.

"Yeah, that's dead." he mutters, walking toward another corner of the room.

"Wait, I don't get it. What's wrong with Sosiji Club?" Jeongin asks, voice low and hardly audible.

"That's—" Changbin groans, "It's a gay bar. No way in hell will I force myself to flirt with a dude."

Minho quips, "Your homophobia is showing."

”I’m not homophobic, just.. it’ll make me uncomfortable.”

"Come on, Bin. You can't even do it for father? He specifically chose you and Felix."

Changbin shakes his head in a rapid manner, hands tucked in his pockets.

"Sorry, can't. Would've been nice to know that that's what we were signing up for."

"Well then, someone will have to take—"

"I'll do it." Jisung throws a hand in the air, nearly smacking Jackson in the face.

"Are you sure?"

"Why not? They won't bite."

Changbin narrows his eyes. "But keep in mind, you have to _flirt_ with men that are probably about half our age."

"Dude, it's fine. I like men. And old people too, actually.”

A brief silence.

"You like men, Sungie?” Felix raises his brows. Jisung shrugs.

"Sure. I like you guys." He throws his arms around Jackson and Jeongin's necks. Both grimace, completely frozen in place as their eyes grow comically large.

"Yikes." comments Minho, eyes glued to the money in his hands. Chan spends a few seconds thinking about what he just learned, eyes moving from the clipboard to Jisung, then back to the clipboard.

"Alright, that's.. I guess I don't really know any of you too well after all." He takes his pen and crosses Changbin's name out, scribbling Jisung's name above. "Thanks, Jisung."

"Welcome. And hyung, make me a wig, too."

Their gear was ready, as well as their wear for the night. Changbin and Jackson stayed in the RV with Jeongin to watch over the cameras. Chan and Minho guard the building, attempting to appear as casual as possible whenever people approached the club. Blue and purple lights flash, noisy chatter and blaring tunes ring outside of the building.

Jisung stares at the scene eagerly, arm latched around Felix's. The outfits are not necessarily casual, yet aren't very formal, either. Felix is dressed in loose, black shorts (the waistband hugging his tiny waist), and a white, see-through shirt that exposed his chest and abs. Jisung wears something similar; a crimson colored choker (to somewhat match with his burgundy wig), a black see-through shirt, and white, ripped jeans.

Both look like they belong in a photo shoot, more than anything.

" _Alright_ , _remember to be casual_." Chan practically whispers into his mic, watching the pair approach the double doors. " _If someone wants to buy you a drink_ , _let them_. _Just don't let it be consistent_ , _or else it'll mess up the plan_."

"Got it, boss." Felix responds. He halts to adjust his lavender colored wig.

" _Good luck_ , _you two_." Jeongin says.

" _Hey_ , _Jisung_ ," Changbin utters, " _please don't catch any feelings for anyone in there_."

Jisung simply rolls his eyes.

"Ready, Han?" the boy asks, searching his pockets for the fake ID's Jackson created earlier.

"I was born ready."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The curly wig was a little inspired by this pic: https://www.instagram.com/p/B2lq9UsljvR/?igshid=8c69k8te4r99


	4. Eye Spy Lurking Enemies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jisung’s victim isn’t an easy target like he’d hoped;
> 
> Felix discovers a new and deadly strength within him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> code names:
> 
> Chan: Doc  
> Jisung: Wings  
> Changbin: Gun  
> Minho: Blaze  
> Felix: Stray  
> Jackson: Blue  
> Seungmin: Sky  
> Jeongin: G.G.  
> Hyunjin: Moon

A very casual conversation was a very fortunate lead to pockets full of cash. Both were so far so successful, jumping from table to table to say cheesy pick up lines to strange men who seemed to be on their own for tonight. It worked like a charm every time.

A particular man, who appeared to at least be in his forties, was attached to Jisung like glue. The next glass being poured had to be Jisung's third. He isn't sure how much he could take, but denying an offer from this guy is near impossible. He'd insist and insist until the younger eventually decided to give in. He could sober up with some water later, if ever granted the chance. Downing the alcohol in one go, his eyes dart to the side to watch his partner; Felix had two men, tall and bulky looking, chatting with him about only God knows what. The man sitting beside him keeps talking, inches from his ear so he could hear him over the blaring EDM music. He asks a question that Jisung doesn't catch at first, quickly glancing at him.

"Sorry?"

The man smiles down at him. "Said what's a cutie like you doing here? Shouldn't you be in school?"

Jisung laughs and shakes his head. "I'm of age."

"No bullshit? Show me your ID."

Like he'd been expecting that, Jisung whips the fake card out and flashes it in the other's face. After his eyes scan the card, the man's mouth drops in awe.

"No bullshit?" he repeats.

"No bullshit." Jisung answers. "I come here pretty often."

"So do I, and I've never seen you in a day in my life. Crazy."

Jisung nods. He peers over his shoulder again to spot Felix whispering in one of the men's ears, probably attempting to seduce him. This man is so nice, is probably easiest to take advantage of. He just has to do it at the right time.

"Hey, you never told me your name by the way."

_Tsk_. Had he not seen it on the ID?

"Peter."

It was the only name that Jisung genuinely liked when they were coming up with names to put on the ID. The man abruptly laughs aloud, causing a few heads to turn. Jisung quirks a brow.

"Get out of here! My name's Peter."

Jisung stares at him for a moment, eyes narrowing. Then, for the sake of avoiding fuck ups, he laughs, loud and fake. Even pretends to wipe away amused tears.

"You're lying!"

"Am not. Swear to God, it's on my birth certificate."

He had to admit, the man did have a nice smile. His teeth are near perfection, glimmering a white in the slight darkness of the club. But that was all that'd caught his eye, nothing else. Peter is just about as average as the rest of the men he's met tonight.

"Y'know what would be cute, though?"

Jisung hums, looking over one more time. To his surprise, Felix isn't there any more.

"If you came over, and I dressed you in school girl clothes."

The smile falters and he practically grimaces in front of him. Yup, definitely as average as the others. Average _and_ perverted.

He puts on his best, practiced smile and looks up at him, chin resting in his hand.

"Ah, so you're into that, hm?"

Peter nods, uttering a " _totally_ " as he lifts his glass.

"School boy clothes would probably be even better, actually."

Jisung hums in response.

"You know what _I_ think would be cute, Peter?"

Peter glances at him after taking a sip, setting the glass down with a _clink_.

"What's that?"

"If _you_ ," he places a finger on his chest, "gave _me_ your money."

For a solid moment, Peter says nothing. Then, for the nth time tonight, bursts out laughing.

Seungmin was released at eleven on the dot. He spoke to his boss about possibly working full time, and his interest in becoming apart of the management team as well. Like he expected, she approved of the notion and allowed him to leave the store with paperwork and stupid looking flash cards to study over.

He'll get to it eventually, but the number one priority is to continue working on Jinyoung's speeches.

The night air made him feel especially refreshed after a long day in that hell hole they call a job.

Seungmin hardly associates with the crew he works with, and when he does, their conversations are very short lived. He's sure they've said things about him behind his back, but who is he to care? He has much more to worry about.

He stops in his tracks when he hears his name being called, turning to glare at the person running after him. _Vanessa_.

"Hey, uh," she pauses to catch her breath, "I always see you walking home after work."

Seungmin blinks. "So?"

"I wanted to offer you a ride. Just got my car a few days ago." she gestures at the red vehicle to their right.

The offer is kind, but doesn't tempt Seungmin in the slightest. He knows better.

"I appreciate it, but I'm fine. I don't live too far."

"Are you sure? It's winter, and I can imagine how cold you must be." Seungmin opens his mouth to speak, but Vanessa beats him to it. "Really, you aren't a burden in any way. You're really nice to me, so, I could only do so much to return the favor."

_Oh brother_ , why is she being so desperate? Seungmin huffs, sounding defeated as he takes a step back.

"It's okay, really. I.. I'm not allowed to ride with strangers."

Vanessa snickers. "Not allowed? Seungmin, aren't you legal?"

"I'm sixteen." It's a lie. She doesn't need to know that, though. Her smile falters, expression dropping to a surprised one.

"Huh. Why did I think you were older than that?"

Seungmin shrugs. She waves a dismissive hand.

"Well," Vanessa starts to step away from him, heading toward her car, "if you ever need a ride, you know who to call. I'd be happy to give you one."

Seungmin smiles a small smile, waving goodbye before strolling away, walking as fast as he could.

He returns to the RV in less than forty minutes, observing over his shoulders (as he always does) before entering the vehicle. Kicking his snow covered shoes off, he approaches Jackson's room, quite surprised to see Jeongin and Changbin sitting with him on the computer. They study the glowing screen intently, eyes never leaving it as they greeted Seungmin.

"What's going on?"

"Mission," Jackson says.

"Mission," Jeongin and Changbin echo after him.

Seungmin removes his coat and eagerly takes a seat beside them.

"Update me. I thought you were apart of the mission too, Bin."

"Was," Changbin snickers at the thought. "Turns out the mission was located at a gay bar. Sosiji bar. Ever heard?"

"No."

"Anyway," Jackson interrupts, fed up with Changbin's ranting, "Jisung took his place. So far so good, but we've got to keep our eyes on them. Jisung, especially."

Seungmin quirks a brow curiously.

"Why's that?"

"Just look." the eldest gestures at the screen. It takes a minute for Seungmin to realize what's happening, and once he does he gasps with surprise.

Peter is a good kisser. Jisung smiles into the kiss, his arms around his neck as the older man lifts him with a small grunt, placing him on the bathroom counter.

This isn't easy, after all. Peter only laughed at his attempt to earn his wallet, uttering that the male had to "work for it". That's when he decided to try plan B; Drag him into the restroom, where all peering eyes weren't on them and they could "kiss in private".

In other words, if he has to fight him for that cash, he will. He just hoped for it to be worth it.

Jisung opens an eye, gaping over Peter's shoulder to peer at the leather black wallet. It's tucked away in his back pocket. Maybe it's because he's feeling tipsy, but it looks so far away, so hard to reach.

"It's pretty obvious, but.." Peter rasps, moving his mouth to Jisung's neck, "you aren't a virgin, right?"

Jisung scoffs, moving his hands to his waist. "What, do I look like a slut to you?"

Peter chuckles, moving to his ear for a second, "If we're being honest here, then yes."

Well shit. Is it the hair?

Jisung lazily fiddles with the man's shirt as he continues to move his hands lower.

_So_ , _so close_.

" _Wings_ ," Changbin's voice startles him, flinching in Peter's grasp, " _be careful_. _You'll be on thin ice if you aren't_."

He's correct. One slip up and all hell could break loose.

Sucking in a breath, Jisung reaches for the wallet and yanks it out of his pocket. Just as he does, however, one of those large hands grasp onto his wrist tightly. Their eyes meet instantly, and before Jisung could comprehend what was happening, his head twists to the side after receiving a harsh slap to the face.

"Nice try." the older man snarls, watching the smaller slowly turn to glare up at him. "You aren't getting shit, twink. Think I didn't see you hopping from table to table, seducing about six different people every time?"

He's at loss for words, staring at the elder with his mouth hung open. The sight itself made Peter laugh out loud. He's been caught.

"What, thought I hadn't noticed?" he snickers, "I know that ID's fake, too. You're quite the scammer, aren't ya?"

"Wh-What are you saying? It isn't fake."

Jisung knows he sounds nowhere near convincing and he hates himself for it. He can't stay cool like the others when he's been caught, though.

"I'm no fool, _fool_."

As if he can sense Jisung's urge to swing at him, he swiftly presses his lower body against his legs and holds both of his arms behind his back, practically pinning him down.

"So tell me. What are your intentions? Hm?" Peter watches the obvious fear in his eyes. "I'm not one to snitch, alright, but maybe I can get you some help. Are you lost? Homeless? Teenage runaway?"

"Get off of me." Jisung snarls, a cold warning in his tone. Peter makes a sound that's mixed with a scoff and a laugh.

"You can't keep running away, kid. Alright? And this.. This scamming shit isn't going to make anything better for you."

"I said," Jisung violently shifts, a failed attempt at kicking him on the leg, "get the fuck _off of me_!"

Jisung is strong, however, Peter is just as strong. Stronger, perhaps. He easily holds him down like a vulnerable child.

"Quit fighting and let me save you!" Peter growls. With every word and syllable he gave the younger male a harsh shake, lighting a wild, angry fire in his chest.

" _Wings_ , _he isn't letting go anytime soon_. _You have to attack him_!" Jackson commands.

Teeth gritted, Jisung throws his head back, creating a powerful collision of their heads when he swings forward. For a split second, he sees a flash of stars, slipping off of the counter as Peter's back hits the wall.

" _Wings_ , _are you okay_?!" Jeongin shouts as Jisung slumps against the wall, a hand on his pounding head.

"Y-Yeah.. I'm good."

He has to do a double take when he realizes Peter is up, practically sprinting in his direction. As quick as the speed of light, the younger throws a leg up to kick the man square in the face. He fails, however, when Peter grasps hold of his ankle.

There's never anytime to think, plus without any weapons, Jisung is quite short of options. He hops on his free foot, then flips. The action is so swift, one leg around Peter's neck while the other is pressing against the back of his neck. They fall to the ground, Jisung struggling in an awkward position until he's able to bring himself up, legs still around his neck.

"Fucking _pervert_!” Jisung spat, "you're the one who needs help. A lot of it."

Peter's dry, veiny fingers clench around the younger’s ankle, attempting to yank him off.

"My intentions weren't to hurt you, but you pushed me." he explains. "So I'm going to let you go as long as you keep your mouth shut. Got it?"

"And what if I tell? You don't know me."

Jisung tightens his legs around his neck.

"I don't think you understand, Peter. I'm not one to play with. I'll make you and your loved ones suffer. So like I said, I won't hurt you unless you cooperate with me. Understood?"

"Fuck, this isn't good." Changbin utters, watching Felix's screen intensely. "This isn't good at all."

" _What's happening_?" Chan asks.

"I'm losing sight of Stray. The monitor's breaking up."

Felix's screen is staticky, but there's audible voices and the sound of an engine starting up in the background. Seungmin’s forehead creases.

"What was that?"

Both Jeongin and Changbin wear the same expression.

_Did Felix_... _leave the club_? _With strangers_?

"Doc, I think we've got a problem."

Felix’s eyes flutter open slowly, his surroundings a blur only for a moment. He can hardly recall a single occurrence from earlier. He can tell he's in a moving vehicle, and that's enough for him to snap out of his fuzzy trance, blinking rapidly as he looks to his sides. Not to his left, but to his right is a somewhat familiar looking man. He's smiling at him, narrowed eyes, pink lips, and a dirty blonde mustache. He looks old, but not that old.

Felix blinks, steadily inching back against the door as if he could go anywhere.

"Well hello, Felix."

Felix stutters,

"H-How do you know my name?"

"Relax. I'll share that story later. Now's a great time to get to know each other a bit more, don't you agree?"

Suddenly something clicks into place. Felix had been drinking shot after shot, and this man was one of the many men he'd spoken with tonight. The last thing he could remember was a conversation - something about business - the both of them downing their tall glasses. Anything else after that is a complete blur.

" _What do you mean he's been abducted_?!" Chan snarls into the two-way radio, pacing around in front of the doors.

"We heard an engine, and now his screen is straight static." Seungmin explains.

"Could it be the distance? He can't be too far though, could he?" Jeongin chimes in, tapping nervously at the desk.

Chan sighs audibly, purely frustrated.

" _Four of you_." he says. " _There's four of you watching, and not one of you caught what was happening while his camera was still on_? _And Blaze_ , _you're job was to_ listen _to his conversation_."

" _My bad_." Minho mutters.

"Agreed Doc, but you're outside of the club." Jackson states matter of factly, "You didn't happen to see anybody out there with him?"

Another angry sigh. " _There are several different entrances and exits_ , _Jackson_.”

"Eh, forget it!" Jeongin says. The fuming tension is getting the best of them. "Let's just focus on finding him, alright? I can probably locate him on one of my surveillance cameras."

" _Surveillance for what_? _We don't even know what car he's in_."

Changbin glances at Jeongin.

"We're fucked then. Great."

"Are you forgetting that I can rewind whatever's being captured?"

"Sure, I recall. My point is, we don't know exactly when he left. Something could be happening to him now as we speak."

"Well all this chit chatting isn't going to get us anywhere, Bin."

" _Do what you do, J_." says Minho, audible shuffling nearly making it impossible to hear him. " _Tell me where the vehicle is located as soon as possible_. _I'll be on my way to help him_."

"Uh huh," Jeongin enters his own room, takes a seat and starts to type in a password, “you'd better be quick on your feet, too.”

Minho snickers. " _I’m not_ _called 'Blaze' for nothing_."

Several different monitors display different streets and areas. He finds the one specifically set up for Sosiji Club, retracts the footage until he spots Jisung and Felix approaching the club. He then holds a finger against the fast forward icon, ceasing immediately when he recognizes Felix's disguise. He's in the arms of a man who's face is behind a medical mask, dressed in a long, tan colored trench coat. He must be unconscious considering how limp he is in his arms.

Jeongin watches as Felix is placed into a taxi cab, the man going in after him.

"Ok, so at least we know his body won't be dumped in the middle of nowhere." Seungmin says, leaning against the wall.

Jeongin simply hums in response, speeding through the clip once more, halting when the taxi pulls in front of a house. He narrows his eyes with suspense, typing into the system. An address appears in the corner of the screen, and Jeongin's nearly squinting in disbelief.

"It can't be." he mutters.

"What is it?" Seungmin questions, inching closer to where Jeongin's seated. He glances up at him.

"WaterRidge Road. Isn't that where the president's nephew currently lives?"

"Well yeah, in that particular area. He wouldn't have been in that bar though, would he?"

Jeongin shrugs.

"Check for numbers. Minho needs the exact address."

"This is all I'm receiving. Some of the information is blocked. I’ll just give him a description.”

Seungmin groans, a hand over his face.

"Kind of difficult when almost everything looks the same at night."

"It really isn't that complicated, Seungmin."

He holds a finger against his earpiece.

"Blaze, you set?"

" _Duh_."

"He's been taken to WaterRidge Road. My monitors won't pick up the exact address, so I’ll give you a description.”

" _Never a problem_."

"First, make sure your camera's on so Changbin and Jackson can see—"

" _I got it_ , _kid_. _Just tell me what this place looks like_."

Jeongin rolls his eyes, uttering incoherence under his breath.

"Fine. It's about five houses down from the very first house you’d see when you enter the neighborhood. There’s a red sports car parked in front of it, looks like one of the Chevrolet cars.”

“ _Cool_ , _so I’m robbing houses and cars tonight_?”

There's an audible, sickening crunch heard through the radio along with a pained grunt. Jeongin closes his eyes, as if doing so would keep him calm.

"Blaze, whatever you're doing, don't do anything stupid please."

" _What d'you mean_? _When have I ever done anything stupid_?"

An engine starts up in the background, causing Jeongin to sigh. _Typical Minho_. Nobody could control that man — Not even Chan.

"Forget it. Just be careful."

" _Will do_."

Felix couldn't feel his mouth anymore. If he's kissed one more time he might scream. They've been in the hall for the longest time now, that once they reached the man's room, he could no longer continue his act. It's become overwhelming.

"I.." Felix starts, panting like he'd run a mile, "I don't wanna do anything. Let's stop here."

The man chuckles. "Lame, however I'm not one to force myself onto others. More like into others, if you get what I mean."

Felix makes a face.

"Let's chat then, shall we? Take a seat."

He gestures toward the large bed in front of them. Felix hesitates, but then he figures he can think of a way out of here. He moves to sit at the edge of the bed, inching over when the other sits beside him.

"I'm not going to hurt you, silly." he says after a snigger. "Our conversation earlier was quite interesting. You're a talker, Felix."

Felix chuckles nervously. "Right, about that.."

"I know your name because you told me. Don't you recall?"

There's that strange smile again. Felix shakes his head.

"My apologies. I was drunk, so I might've said some things that aren't actually true."

"But are they really not?" his eyes narrow. Felix feels a tightness in his chest, eyeing the man carefully. "You seemed quite surprised when I said your name. And I caught you searching for those, em, spy gadget thingies."

The blonde is frozen. This man must be dangerous.

"Listen, you've told me a lot already, so I'm interested. Who're you working for?"

"No no no, no. I don't work for anybody, those are just toys."

" _Toys_?" he laughs. "Give me a break. I heard talking in that earpiece. Code names and all. I think one of 'em were called Wings, or something like that."

Felix can only stare in shock. The man sighs, like he's become fed up with this conversation.

"Alright then. I'll drop the act since you refuse to drop yours. I work for the president's nephew, and my job has been to keep an eye on pests like you."

There's only a short lived silence before Felix aggressively throws a punch. The man catches his fist, though, to his surprise.

"Whew," he laughs, "could've punched a hole in my hand." He shoves the boy's fist away. "Your team doesn't know where you are, huh?"

Felix doesn't answer, biting against the side of his lower lip.

"That's not a problem." He slides off the bed to stand in front of the spy, pulling out the earpiece that indeed belongs to him. Placing the item in his ear, he pushes the button to speak. "Team. You must be looking for Felix, am I right?"

"What are you doing?!" he snarls.

" _Who's this_?" a startled voice queries.

"That's not very important now, is it? I live on WaterRidge Road, house number 18. I look forward to seeing you all."

He then drops the item to the floor, crushing it beneath his feet.

"What are you doing?!" repeats Felix, swiftly standing up.

"My job." he grins, pulling a cellphone out of his pocket. "Your team is wanted, don't you know?"

With that, he dials a number and waits for someone to pick up.

"Yes, greetings officer."

Felix feels his stomach twist.

"There are intruders trying to invade my house.. Yes, yes they do have weapons."

The boy feels something unnatural, something overwhelming and powerful building up in his body. He feels really hot, like he’s going to go mad, and momentarily is afraid that he might be having a panic attack.

Abruptly, the nephew's little minion makes a gagged sound, the phone slipping from his sweaty palms to hurriedly bring them to his neck. His face is turning blue, knuckles bruising, and he abruptly falls to his knees with a harsh thud.

Felix isn't witnessing a single thing in front of him, simply _can't_. He sucks in several breaths, quick and shallow, bringing a hand to his chest to feel for his racing heart.

" _Hello_?! _Hello_ , _can you hear me_?!" a voice shouts from the phone.

Felix’s eyes widen and he releases a dry gasp. The police are definitely going to be on their way.

Minho pounds a fist against the door, but seconds later learns that the door is already unlocked. He walks in cautiously, eyes searching through the large living room.

There's a flight of stairs to his left. He saunters up with his glock pistol against his chest (in case of a surprise attack).

"Stray?" he whispers, peering into an empty room. For a house located in an area deliberately for the wealthy, it isn't very big. Sure has a lot of unnecessary rooms, though.

There's a room straight across the narrow hall, lights flickering before completely shutting off. Minho narrows his eyes, inching closer.

"I'm coming in!"

He peers into the room, rather puzzled to see Felix huddled up against the wall, knees to his chest as stares up at the other with big, frightened eyes. There's shattered glass and broken furniture on the floor.

"Do not come closer." he warns, voice low like he didn't trust himself. Minho frowns.

"Are you.. okay?" he looks down to see the blonde's kidnapper, face completely blue. He looks like he might be dead, eyes blown wide and motionless. “The hell happened in here?"

"J-Just stay away from me! You need to leave, Minho!"

"What are you on about?"

"The cops are on their way!"

Minho takes notice of the man’s abandoned phone. The screen is cracked, and despite the ruckus in the room, Minho could hear the voices coming from the phone. He rushes to pick it up and ends the call, storing it into his pocket afterwards.

"Up. Let's get you out of here." he says when he reaches for Felix, but he rapidly shakes his head.

"I can't."

A light bulb shatters on the nightstand, making the pair flinch.

"Something's wrong with me! I can't.. I-I can't control it!”

Minho's brows furrow.

"The fuck..?"

"You have to go!" Felix buries his flushed face between his knees, visibly trembling in his spot.

"And leave you here? Fuck that!”

The boy continues to refuse, causing Minho to sigh in defeat. As much as he hates to do this, it's only for the sake of escaping properly.

So without warning, he rolls his eyes back til he feels a flare in his entire body. Felix’s eyes start to glow a blood red and he’s suddenly rigid in place, indicating that he’s been possessed. Once Minho feels like the time is right, he snaps his own head to the side, causing Felix to repeat the action in unison (with a slight crunch of the joints in his neck).

It works like a charm, took Felix out instantly. Like the speed of light, the noise dies down. Nothing in the room breaks or shatters once more, and Minho sighs with relief.

"Could've done it the easy way, kid.”

He brings the slouched boy in his arms. When he proceeds to leave, he nearly slips over that man's leather wallet.

It could be another source of evidence if the cops still showed up to the house, so Minho chose to store that into his pocket as well.

Perhaps it'll come in handy one of these days, anyway.

He steps out of the house with an unconscious Felix over his shoulder.

"Rescue mission accomplished." he speaks into his earpiece. A few ’ _thank_ _god_ ’s and sighs of relief are his responses from the team.

" _Is he hurt_?"

"Not hurt, no. Just.. in a state of confusion."

" _Still drunk_?"

The sound of sirens in the distance catch him off guard, looking up to see the familiar flashing of red and blue.  
  


”Eh, I’ll explain later.”

" _No kidding_. _They aren't far_ , _Blaze_." Jeongin warns.

Minho chuckles once he finished adjusting Felix’s slouched position behind him on the black motorcycle.

"Aye aye, captain obvious."

He flees the scene, a hand binding Felix's wrists together to keep him secure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao kinda funny how I’m dropping this chapter on Valentine’s Day,, honestly probably the closest to romance this fic would ever get
> 
> stay tuned for more :>


	5. Plan X

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Jinyoung’s told about their rocky journey during the mission, they need to think of a plan of their own this time to fix what could possibly become a dangerous outcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is where there are lotssss of new changes to the plot!

Jisung huffs as he swings open a cabinet, shuffling through it until he finds a partially filled bottle of Bacardi.

"Haven't you had enough to drink tonight, Han?"

Jisung startles, whipping around to see Changbin, arms crossed and leaned back, staring back at him. There’s a smirk on his face that's irking Jisung’s nerves already.

"So what? I worked hard."

"Better hope dad won't notice. That's his cabinet y'know."

Jisung says something under his breath as he sets his focus back on the glass, pouring until it was half full. He wasn't planning on drinking too much anyway.

Changbin cocks his head to the side.

"This isn't about that Peter, is it?"

"Ugh, what are you on about?" Jisung says, the tip of the cup inches from his mouth.

Changbin laughs, but keeps it suppressed.

"You never drink unless you're stressed."

"Well yeah. That mission _was_ pretty stressful."

"Uh huh. _Peter_ was stressful." he walks a full circle around Jisung and halts in front of him, snapping a finger. "You wanted him."

As quick as his first sip, Jisung sputters, liquid splattering onto Changbin's face.

"Are you kidding me?!"

Changbin scoffs, wiping his face clean with an arm.

"I didn't have feelings for _anybody_ in that club! They were all perverts!"

"Sure they were, but you chose to stick with Peter the longest."

" _Peter_ chose to stick with _me_. I couldn't control who followed me or not!"

The older of the two makes a sound of pure amusement as he shakes his head.

"Took him to the bathroom so you could kiss and everything. Hey if ya really wanted to, you could've allowed him to steal your v card."

Jisung's blushing furiously, anger boiling in his blood.

"The mission was to earn _money_ , not dick, you imbecile.”

"Mayhaps." he folds his arms and glances up like he's thinking out loud. "Either way you would've earned.. _something_."

Bottles and glasses clink and clash harshly against the counter when Jisung violently slammed himself against a stunned Changbin, trapping him against the counter.

"I know about your little homophobic problem. Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I'm all eyes for every man on earth." he growls. Changbin's struggling to break eye contact with Jisung's angry ones. "You've probably lost respect for me, but I don't give a shit. I'm still Han Jisung whether you like it or not, and I'm still working _with_ this team, _for_ this team. Got that?"

"That's enough you two." Chan says as he enters the kitchen. Jisung huffs angrily, leaving a stunned Changbin against the counter to resume drinking. "You guys should be asleep right now.”

"I'd be tucked in already, had not I experienced interruptions." Jisung snarls, side eyeing the other.

Changbin raises his arms in defense.

“No need to get so defensive. I was joking.”

He hears the younger utter a ‘ _joking my ass_ ’ before swinging the cabinet open to place the bottle back in. Chan seems to suppress a giggle, turning his attention to Changbin.

"Felix doing okay?"

The leader shrugs. "He's.. sobered up now. I offered him an arcane cig, but, well, you know..”

"Seems like he never wants one." Changbin says. "Pretty unhealthy for our kind, isn't it?"

He shrugs again, watching Jisung wander out of the kitchen.

"Don't you spill anything in that room." Chan warns.

"Love you too!" Jisung yells over his shoulder, causing Chan and Changbin to share a snicker.

Jeongin exits the RV cautiously, eyes glued to the blonde spy ahead of him. He's either washing his face or thinking. Majority of the time, he only sits in front of the lake to think, so Jeongin can only assume that something might be bothering him.

He huffs softly before proceeding to take a seat beside him. For a while, he just stares at him, as if he were waiting for an explanation.

"Hey," Jeongin smiles. He draws his arms over his chest, smile widening when Felix greets him back. "You feeling okay?"

"If we're talking physical, yes. Mentally? Not so much."

"May I ask why? What happened in there?”

The snow gently crunches as Felix shifts in his spot. His brows furrow.

"It's.. really really hard to explain, Jeongin. I dunno what happened, can't remember much.. Only thing I can remember is when the guy fell to the ground, just choking." he explains. "I remember feeling really scared, too. Like, I felt like he was gonna hurt me, and you guys as well."

"Did he hurt you?"

"No, no. He didn't. Least, I don't think so."

Jeongin thoughtfully looks down at the frozen lake in front of them. He has so many questions, but refuses to bring to himself to ask. Tonight was another rough night, and he can only imagine how confused and annoyed Felix might be feeling right now.  
  


”J, have you ever had a panic attack before?”

Jeongin sucks in his lips and shakes his head.

”Have you?”

“No but... Well, I don’t know what a panic attack is supposed to feel like, but, I think that’s what that was earlier.”

”Hm.. Could I ask you something?”

Felix nods.

”What did you feel while it was happening? Were you dizzy? Any weird pains?”

”I.. I don’t know.” the hopelessness was audible in his tone. “Everything was happening so fast and I.. It felt like I was blacking out or something.”

Jeongin is so curious now. He shifts in his spot until his body’s in Felix’s direction.

”Did you see anything happening around you? Minho hyung told us that the furniture was breaking.”

Felix chews at his inner cheek, staring up at the constellation above them.

"I heard things breaking around me. It sounded like I was being surrounded by a tornado.”

Jeongin's still staring at him. It's all he can ever do when he's baffled.

"But the scariest part of it all," Felix continues, "was that I just couldn’t control it. I didn't want to kill that man, but I heard him choking. I tried so hard to stop but.." he shakes his head.

"Well that man was an enemy, wasn't he? Sounds like you did the right thing."

"He was calling the cops, J. We kissed, my fingerprints are all over his clothes and arms, possibly his face. The police could find out who I am and we could all get in trouble."  
  


”Maybe, but we have nothing that could help them track us down.”

"But that man was onto us. He told me we're all wanted.” Jeongin's expression twists. He looks horrified. “He knew about us, about father. Even told me he works for the president's nephew."

"No way."

"Yes way."

Jeongin puffs his cheeks, audibly blowing the air from his mouth. Perhaps it was safe to say that they’ve really done it this time, fucked up the plot that was slowly being developed.

”So what do we do now, then?"

"When I wake up, I'll be the one to tell father what happened. I'll tell him everything, and then he could probably come up with a new plan."

Jeongin draws in his lower lip. They've all seen father's temper, but they haven't encountered his threats, his _fists_ like Jeongin has himself. He doesn't want anyone else to, and sure as hell wouldn't want Felix to experience something like that.

"I'll tell him. Don't worry about that." he forces himself to smile. Felix shakes his head.

"It's fine J. I can take a good scolding."

"No really, let me handle it." Jeongin looks Felix in the eyes. "Please."

Felix quirks a confused brow, but eventually shrugs a shoulder.

"If you insist."

History always repeated itself in Jeongin's life. It always has, and from what he can tell, things will only continue to be that way for him.

It's rather unfortunate, nonetheless. He isn't satisfied with his position on the team and wishes to improve. He wants to show father — no, show _everyone_ that he's more than what they think.

Jeongin wouldn't dare to ask that man such a question, though.

It's late — a minute or so past ten. The team is settled down now, tucked in and sharing quiet conversations. Jeongin is quite thankful he currently doesn't share a room with anyone, otherwise he'd have to spend additional time trying to get past suspenseful queries, simply for leaving the room.

He heads straight for Jinyoung's room, tapping the door with a series of light knocks, twisting it open once granted permission to enter.

"Jeongin." he greets, letting the pen drop from between his fingers.

A tight-lipped smile breaks across the younger's face as he closes the door behind him. It's a precaution, plus after years of repetition, he knows Jinyoung will draw it closed eventually.

"Um, so.. has Chan told you how the mission went?"

"I haven't asked." Suspicion lies under his tone. "Did something happen?"

Jeongin needs to take a few big breaths before speaking up again.

”They.. ahem, _we_ , sorry. We might’ve messed up.”

Jinyoung hums, urging him on.

”They earned a lot of money, but Felix was kidnapped by this man, and—“

”Why?”

Jeongin’s mouth falls slack, suddenly unable to muster up the correct form of words. He wasn’t puzzled, for he already saw this coming from the start — The interruption caught him off guard, though.

”Why was Felix kidnapped, Jeongin? Were you not watching the surveillance cameras?” the seat beneath the elder man rolls back when he stands. “Were you not doing your job?”

Jeongin’s knees buckle in an attempt to hold his posture, keep himself composed.

”I-I was..”

Jinyoung brings himself closer to the younger until they’re several inches apart, cupping his face with his hands.

”Are you lying to me?”

Right now, he sounds as calm as a faint breeze, but Jeongin can read him well. He knows what happens next.

”Jeongin,” he repeats, “answer me kid. Are you lying?”

There simply isn’t any way to back out of this now, so Jeongin chooses to comply, nodding his head in a slow manner.

”Why did you lie?”

Jeongin feels like his legs might give out. This is supposed to be usual to him and yet, he still fears every second here. The anticipation kills him every single time.

”I’m sorry—“

Sure enough, the apology earned him a very harsh slap to the face. The boy barely winces at the sharp sting, reeling to the side a bit until he was on the floor.

”Half-assed apologies are never accepted in this household. You should know that.”

Jeongin’s hand flies up to caress his burning cheek in autopilot, eyes glued to the floor below him.

The lack of response seemed to push Jinyoung’s buttons even further. Without warning (not like he would in the first place), the elder drives a foot into Jeongin’s chest, practically knocking the wind out of him as he fell onto his back with a grunt.

”Get up!”

Somehow, he was able to manage to keep his voice down. It was the nicest he could be, didn’t want to humiliate the boy in front of everyone. Jeongin complied quickly.

”Pathetic..” Jinyoung mutters, “For years, I’ve had to constantly repeat myself. Why is that? Hm?”

Jeongin curls in his lower lip, eyes everywhere but on the man’s face.

”How many times do I need to tell you to do your job, huh? Hey,”

His patience is growing really thin now. He yanks a fist full of Jeongin’s dark strands, ripping a staggered noise out of him.

”you answer me when I’m speaking to you, yeah? How many fucking times?”

Jeongin says something, voice quavering like he was on the verge of tears. He is, in fact, on the verge of tears.

”Louder.”

”It won’t happen again.”

”Oh really? You say that quite often.” he chuckles, releasing that taut hold on his hair. “Tell me what else happened.”

Jeongin took a cautious step back, struggling to stand straight. He had to blink through brimming tears in order to even think about the mission again. What else happened? What did he come in here to tell him again?

”Well?”

”I-I retracted the footage caught on camera and found who took him. Minho saved him, but apparently the man who took him was stalking us.”

Jinyoung raises a brow at that.

”Stalking us?”

Jeongin hums.  
  
  


”The cops were called, and there might be evidence left at the man’s house that they could use against us. Not only that, but we were also told that he worked for the president’s nephew.”

Jinyoung curses under his breath, finally walking away from the younger male to take a seat on the edge of the desk.

”No need to stress though, father. The team and I will come up with a plan as soon as possible tomorrow morn—“

”No.” Jinyoung interrupts. “Not tomorrow, tonight. Now.”

Jeongin blinks. “Now?”

”Well would you rather take the chances of getting caught sooner?”

He does have a point.

”Gather everyone together and think of something. Otherwise, your chances for a better future will be completely ruined, all because of you. Am I clear?”

_All because of him._ Was that one hundred percent truthful, though?

”Yes father.” he bows his head before turning to leave.

”And Jeongin?”

He halts, refusing to face him this time. He’s quite familiar with this change of tone in his voice, too.

”Come to me before you go to bed, alright? Tell me what you’ve all come up with.”

There’s a lump in his throat, rapidly growing and burning like it would eventually explode. Frightened isn’t even close to the proper term he’d use to describe what he’s feeling right now. What’ll he earn out of the next visit here tonight? Another beating, or something much worse (that he’d rather not even think about)?

Jeongin nods one last time, then wastes no time to swiftly leave the room for good.

  
Park Jinyoung has never been a genius, and that itself had to be apart of the reason why his kids’ were a clumsy bunch. They’re all still under prepared and yet, somehow managed to take out one of Yang Sungho’s greatest spies.

He often went by the name “Theo” as he was obsessed with how powerful it sounded. Plus, it was short and simple, easy for people to remember.

Sungho never imagined the day he’d lose any of his spies, and definitely never imagined it to be his _favorite_. It was a lot to take in, and before he’d have to report the news to his uncle, Yang Hyun-suk, he needed to take a moment to process everything. He wanted receipts, proof, _evidence_. Anything to confirm that this was the truth, the outcome of a mission that was so thoroughly planned out and practiced.

His team wasn’t a very big one, but he was confident that they’d all be able to catch Jinyoung’s pathetic excuses of a “team” tonight.

”This can’t be.” Sungho muttered, more to himself than the woman standing in front of him.

”The police are still searching for evidence as we speak.” she confirms. She keeps her head low to avoid eye contact. She knows his temper — Everyone does.

He releases a harsh sounding sigh and shoves past her, a few papers slipping past his fingers.

It’s been hours, and they still aren’t allowed to be in the house with the police. Considering the chaos that’s unfolded in the neighborhood, Theo indeed must be gone for good.

Sungho falls onto the mattress in his room after shutting the door. If he’s to call his uncle now, he’d rather do it with nobody around.

The call is accepted after three rings, followed by the voice of Hyun-suk, thick with sleep.

”Uncle ‘Suk?”

” _Yes_ , _yes_ , _something the matter_?”

Sungho swallows. Never in his life has he felt so nervous about speaking to Hyun-suk. It isn’t like him.

”I assume you haven’t heard the news.”

He hears the man click his tongue.

” _Are we talking good news_ , _or bad_?”

Sungho sighs, driving a hand over the side of his face. _Enough stalling_.

”Theo’s dead.”

” _What_?” he can hear the man shifting around in the background. “ _What do you- Are you serious_?!”

”I wouldn’t lie about death, Uncle ‘Suk..”

” _Do not tell me you allowed those stupid weaklings to take him out_. _Don’t tell me this was a fail_. _You guys know better—_ “

”We had everything planned out, you know this! I don’t know what happened.”

Hyun-suk grumbles something under his breath.

” _That’s why you were supposed to have a_ back up. _Those kids are freaks, they’d accidentally shoot their father if they owned a gun_. _Fucking hell_ , _they’d—_ “ he makes himself pause, taking in another big breath. “ _Just_.. _Forget it_ , _he’s gone now_. _Come up with something else_ , _but don’t come crying to me anymore_. _I’ve got work to do_.”

”Uncle ‘Suk,” Sungho groans, “I don’t know where to go from here!”

” _Figure it out_.”

”Just report Park like I’ve told you a dozen times! This isn’t going to get neither of you anywhere, and I can’t keep doing this—“

” _You realize where that leads us all to_ , _right_? _Poverty_!” Hyun-suk spits. “ _If people find out what he’s really doing behind closed doors_ , _he won’t hesitate to tell the world what_ I’ve _been doing as well_. _I’d lose my spot as the president for good_ , _and then that’s game over for us all_ , _you understand me_?”

Sungho doesn’t say anything for a moment, taking in the silence before uttering a “ _yes_ , _Uncle ‘Suk_ ”.

” _Do not let this happen again_ , _you hear_? _I need those pests killed off and I need it to happen now_.”

_Killed_? Such a sudden decision, but it’s fair enough considering the fact that they managed to terminate Theo tonight. Sungho doesn’t really give a shit what he’s ordered to have done to them at this point. As long as they’re wiped away from his existence, he’d do anything.

” _Are we clear_?”

Sungho bites his lower lip and nods, a demonic glint in his hazel orbs.

”We’re clear.”

Chan’s having a hard time concentrating, blinking down at the notebook in his hand. What makes matters much worse is the fact that they’re all having a hard time staying focused, far too hypnotized by the notion of _sleep_ , _sleep_ , _sleep_.

Jeongin’s mind is only occupied by the thought of going back to Jinyoung, obsessing over what could possibly happen to him after this.

”I.. really don’t know what else to say.” Changbin uttered, scratching the back of his head.

”Alright, who should we send back to the house? Let’s start with that.” Seungmin says, reaching to take Chan’s notebook.

”Last person to say “not it” gets to go. Ready, set—“

”No, Jisung. Just stop.” Chan frowns. “Seungmin we aren’t going back to that house.”

”Why not?”

”Wha— There are _police_ , and we’re wanted.”

”Not all of us. Just Felix and Minho.”

Jackson suppresses a laugh.

”Guys, this is getting us nowhere, alright? Let’s just use our brains for a second.”

”Well my brain is telling me to go back to sleep, man.” Minho quips, his hand supporting the weight of his head.

Jeongin sighs. “We really need a plan. No jokes Minho. The police might find out about us.”

Minho sends the youngest a glare.

”Well I don’t hear you talking yet. You’re the one who dragged us out of bed, right? Why aren’t you thinking?”

”I’m _trying_ , can you just shut up?”

”Enough.” Chan warns, bringing a hand in the air. “Too much chit chat and less _thinking_. This is why we can’t get shit done correctly.”

It’s the truth, indeed. A very harshly spoken truth.

Momentarily, they all fall quiet, staring down at absolutely nothing to focus.

”Jackson,” Chan abruptly calls, glancing up at the eldest, “I need you to shape-shift.”

”Into?”

Chan thinks some more, tapping a rhythm against the notebook with a pen.

”Somebody at the club. A quote on quote witness, you get me?”

”I’m following. Maybe one of the guards at the entrance?”

”Or maybe Peter.” Changbin snickers, followed by a sharp hiss after earning a kick in the calf from Jisung.

Chan ignores them and starts scribbling words into his page.

”Perfect. Now what I want you to do from there is to get to the house as quickly as possible, tell the police that that man kidnapped Felix and was killed for self defense reasons.”

”What if they ask for proof?”

Chan’s mouth twitches with thought.

”Eh, okay wait. Just scratch that. _Minho_ ,” he points the pen at him, “you go back to the house.”

”You kidding?”

Chan deadpans, causing the other’s shoulders to slump with defeat.

” _I’m_ kidding. What am I doing this time, Doc?”

”Both you and Seungmin will go together. I need _you_ to possess the police. Do what you do best, got it?”

”And why am I going, Doc?” Seungmin questions, hands on his hips.

”I need you to be on the lookout. When Minho gives you a signal that the coast is clear, go in the house with him to bring back any kind of evidence they’d find. Anything that looks absolutely necessary.”

Minho sighs and stands up, proceeding to leave the room.

”Sounds like a plan to me.”

”But I— Chan, you know how uncomfortable crowds make me feel.” Seungmin protests.

”Relax, kid. It’s not like you’ll be the one doing anything.” Minho remarks. “We’re doing this for father, remember?”

”It’ll be okay, Min.” Chan places a hand on his shoulder. “I really need you in this one, though. Keep him under control. You know how he gets when he’s sent to do things like this.”

He mutters the last part, and he certainly does have a point. Still, Seungmin isn’t having it. He shakes his head and puts a hand of defense in the air.

”I worked all day, though.”

”Alright, alright, I’ll just go.” Jackson laughs, giving Seungmin a pat on the shoulder. “I can work with Minho tonight, Doc.”

Chan’s tentative for a second, then nods with agreement.

”Fine. Seungmin, I won’t be easy on you next time.”

Seungmin bows his head. “I apologize.”

Chan orders everyone else to return to sleep as Minho and Jackson get ready. Jeongin returns to his room, stays there until he’s certain everyone has settled back down for the night.

Then, he takes another anxious-filled breath. It’ll probably be the last proper breath for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!! I hope I still have readers enjoying this fic :> as always I appreciate everyone reading and commenting, it really means a lot <3


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